A Matter of House
by Emerald Ashes
Summary: In which Bellatrix Black and Molly Prewett were sorted into Hufflepuff, and the world changed ever-so-slightly.
1. In Which the Hat is Stubborn

**Quick Note: Statements in italics separate scenes. These snippets apply to the canon universe, while relating to the the previous scene.**_  
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Ch. 1: In Which the Hat is Stubborn

_They might have been friends, had the Hat been a bit more stubborn._

The girl sat stiffly upon the stool, utterly dignified beneath the raggedy, old Sorting Hat. A throaty voice echoed through her mind. "Hmmm, intelligent, but with no real interest in learning for learning's sake. Fairly brave and rather single-minded…"

"Put me in Gryffindor and I'll set you on fire," she whispered.

The Hat chuckled. "A Gryffindor temper if ever I've seen one. But that tactic was most certainly Slytherin."

The girl smiled. She was going to Slytherin. It was unquestionable. She was the perfect Pureblood, the perfect heir. Mother would be proud.

"And yet," said the Hat, "you only treasure your intelligence for the approval it earns you. You are only brave in the face of threats against your family and their ideals. You only hone your cunning in order to compete for their affection. You would throw yourself into any task that might help those who've earned your loyalty. Nothing can stop you once you've made up your mind. Yes, I know just where to put you."

The smile slipped from her face.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The girl stumbled off the stool and towards the cheering, yellow table. Her usual grace had abandoned her. She might as well have been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. A few older students clapped her on the back and offered congratulations. She merely nodded.

She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. She collapsed onto an empty seat, a good distance from the rest of her housemates.

Hufflepuff. What had she done to deserve this?

The girl could barely watch the Sorting, allowing her long, black hair to block the traitorous artifact from view. Still, it was impossible to ignore the Hat's shouts. RAVENCLAW! SLYTHERIN! GRYFFINDOR! The words swirled about the Great Hall, taunting her with missed opportunities.

More children filled the table, but she paid them no mind. They were only Puffs, after all. Naïve, useless, stupid little Puffs. Just like her.

"Are you okay?" the question jolted the girl out of her daze. A true Slytherin would never have let her guard down like that. A true Slytherin is always watchful, always focused. A true Slytherin would never be sorted into Hufflepuff.

Beside her, a redheaded girl was patiently waiting for an answer.

"No." The answer was honest, if a bit blunt.

"Are you sick? I'm sure one of the Prefects can show us the way to the Infirmary…"

"No." She couldn't muster up the energy to glare. For a moment, the other girl was silent.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Bloody Hufflepuffs.

She lethargically picked up a roll and nibbled on it. The redhead beamed at her apparent success. "I'm Molly Prewett. Who're you?"

A touch of pride colored the girl's voice as she declared, "Bellatrix Black."

_There were so few Hufflepuffs that year. Many thought it strange. The Hat was silent as ever._

* * *

The owls arrived in a flurry of wings and gasps. Molly squealed as her family owl landed beside her plate.

"Hi, Tawny," she cooed, happily grabbing the box of homemade cookies from the creature's talons.

Across the table, Bellatrix greeted a looming, black owl, silently read its letter, and immediately stood. Molly followed her back to their dorm. For some unimaginable reason, the redhead had decided they were friends. She had the optimism and friendliness of a puppy. Bellatrix had always hated dogs.

The redhead tugged at Bellatrix's curtains. They were charmed shut. "Um, Bellatrix?"

"Go away, Prewett."

"Are you okay?"

"Bloody Hufflepuff," the girl murmured into her pillow.

Bellatrix could feel Molly's glare through the cheerful, yellow curtain. "There's nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff!"

"Yes there is, and everyone knows it. I should have been a Slytherin, not some leftover." Bellatrix started to sniffle. She was nearly crying in front of a Puff. How humiliating. If only she had learned the Silencing Charm…

Molly's voice softened a bit. "I thought I'd be in Gryffindor. Both my brothers were, after all, and we were always together before they left for Hogwarts. It's going to be tough barely seeing them, but I trust the Hat. I'm a Hufflepuff and I'm going to do my House proud."

In spite of herself, Bellatrix began to open up. "I was supposed to go to Slytherin – the same as my parents – and set a good example for Andy and Cissy. I've let everyone down…Mother's furious."

Molly wasn't sure how to respond. She mumbled, "We're going to be late for our first class."

"We?"

"You don't think I'm just going to leave you here, do you? Either both of us go to class or neither of us do!"

"Really?" Bellatrix asked hesitantly.

"We're Hufflepuffs, remember? Badgers stick together."

It seemed an eternity until a pale face poked out from between the daisy-yellow curtains. "I guess we'd better get going then, huh?"

Molly beamed.

_Mrs. Weasley sent Howler after Howler to her mischievous children, each screaming louder than the last. It never occurred to her that a few silent, spidery lines could cut far deeper than mere embarrassment._

* * *

"You don't like Quidditch?"

Molly shrugged. "Not really…Why do you look so surprised?"

"You're so giggly and bouncy and enthusiastic and _Hufflepuff._"

Molly muttered, "Why do you always have to say that like it's an insult?"

Bellatrix continued, "Don't you get caught up in the excitement? The action? That moment when the Seeker dives and the whole crowd holds their breath…"

"But so many people get hurt! They get their skulls cracked by bludgers or get sick from playing in the rain, and all over some silly game. Fabian broke his arms last year. Both of them! Mum had a fit."

Bellatrix smirked. "You're such a bleeding heart, Prewett. It's not like Pomfrey doesn't fix them up in a couple hours, anyway. It's your loss, though. I guess I'll see you after the match."

"After? I'm coming with you."

"But you said…"

The redhead seemed to stand a little taller. "I may not like Quidditch, but I'm not going for the game. I'm going to support Hufflepuff." With that, Molly grabbed her surprised roommate's arm and led her towards the Quidditch pitch.

_Bellatrix Black was one of the better Slytherin Chasers. No one but Madam Pomfrey seemed to care that, during her three years on the team, she never dodged a single bludger._

* * *

The two Quidditch players towered over the girls. One was tall with bright auburn hair, just a shade less intense than Molly's. The other was a few inches shorter, his eyes a bright blue and hair as brown as the earth beneath his feet.

"Molly, oh how we've missed you!" declared the taller of the two, gesturing wildly with his red-clad arm, "Why, just the other day, dear Fabian was asking me, 'Where is our beloved sister? Has she abandoned us? Why doesn't she ever go to our Quidditch games?' I just didn't know what to say, for I, too, had wondered the same things as my innocent younger brother."

Ignoring the other boy's dramatic speech, Molly turned to the brunette, "Hi Fabian."

"Hi Molls, how's Hogwarts treating you?"

Her eyes lit up, "Wonderful! Professor Slughorn says I'm the best in my class for potions and the Giant Squid really _is _gigantic and all the Prefects are so nice and-"

Fabian laughed and ruffled her hair. "Breathe, Molls. I'm glad you love it as much as Giddy and I do."

"How're things up in Gryffindor?"

"Same as ever. You really should visit sometime, might stop Gideon from whining for a few minutes."

The taller boy's monologue continued, "Now, at long last, I lay eyes upon my precious sister, only to find her cheering on our opponents. Truly, the cruelty of fate knows no bounds."

Bellatrix's mouth twitched upward as she fought off a very Hufflepuff urge to giggle. Gideon noticed her and grinned.

"Oh? What's this? Has our baby sister made herself a friend?" – the boy flung an arm around Bellatrix's shoulders – "Just who might you be?"

Molly sighed. "Bellatrix, these are my brothers. The one hanging off you is Gideon and the sane one is Fabian."

Smiling softly, the brunette held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Bellatrix."

The blushing Hufflepuff shook it.

"Now, we'd better get going before we're late," Fabian said.

"Wouldn't want to upset the Captain," agreed Gideon, letting go of the girl's shoulders.

"Bye!" they called out in unison as they raced towards their teammates.

Shaking her head, Molly turned back to her best friend. "Sorry, they're a little…You're blushing. Oh Circe! You have a crush on my brothers, don't you?"

"What?! No."

"Thank Merlin," Molly sighed.

"I only have a crush on Fabian. I do have some taste, you know."

_In early October, 1981, two blood traitors died – one sliced open by a red Reducto and the other splashed in Avada Kedavra green. Bellatrix Lestrange simply laughed. Christmas had come early, after all!_

* * *

**A/N: While loyalty is in no short abundance in canon, the house of loyalty is. About a year ago, I started to wonder what the world would be like with just a couple more Hufflepuffs and began this fic. Last week, I rediscovered and finished it. It's eleven chapters long (the scenes should improve somewhat in length and, hopefully, quality). I'll try to update every couple of days. **

**Remember, reviews are beloved, critiques cherished, and any mentioned typos will be attacked with unnerving enthusiasm. I don't have a beta, at the moment, so you folks are my main source of feedback.**


	2. In Which Tradition is Followed

Ch. 2: In Which Tradition is Followed

"Don't you think twenty-five letters was a little much?" Bellatrix asked.

"You're my best friend; you should be glad I didn't follow you home and refuse to leave for a month."

"…Seriously?"

"Gideon did it once. Now, hush, the Sorting's starting."

The new students crowded together, trading anxious whispers. Bellatrix could remember her own wait clearly, though she hadn't been so nervous. She'd been quite confident about the Hat's decision, at least until it landed on her head. Her sense of déjà vu only increased as Professor McGonagall called, "Black, Andromeda," and a lone girl with dark hair approached the rickety stool. Molly shot her a questioning look.

"My sister," she whispered. A booming voice drowned out any further explanations.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Wearing a victorious smirk, the firstie sauntered over to her new table.

"Bella?" Molly said. Her housemate's eyes were staring distantly at the back of her sister's head, completely ignoring the rest of the Sorting.

"I'm fine."

The redhead shot her a skeptical look.

"I am, really," she insisted, "It's just that…I was hoping she would be a Puff or a Claw or even a Gryffindor. We've always been a bit competitive. Now that she's a Slytherin, she'll be Mother's new favorite. I just don't know if I can-"

Bellatrix was interrupted when a hundred pounds of Hufflepuff launched itself at her. Squirming a little under Molly's…enthusiastic…hug, Bellatrix found her dark mood beginning to lift. Molly quickly pulled back and began filling up the brunette's plate with various desserts.

"You can't fix every problem with food, you know."

Molly just smiled. "You haven't tasted my mum's cooking."

_It is customary for friends and neighbors to bring food for the bereaved. However, Molly Weasley always declined others' cooking whenever she lost loved ones. Were she ever asked, the woman might have described the days leading up to a funeral as "A flurry of condolences, flour, and dinging ovens."_

* * *

"He's cheating!" Bellatrix hissed.

"So? He's a Slytherin. Isn't that what they do?"

"Taking advantage of weaknesses is one thing. Using loopholes is another, but this is blatant cheating. What kind of arrogant idiot is he?"

"Well, Hooch doesn't seem to notice."

"Then she's blind."

Molly leaned back to survey her friend as a new round of boos erupted from the crowd. "Why are you so upset about this?"

"First, there's the principle of the thing. I'm from a family of Slytherins, and, while this does serve as a show of power, it isn't anywhere near the subtlety expected of a snake. Honestly, a second year should know better. Second, Rodolphus Lestrange is Andy's fiancé. I refuse to let my baby sister marry a rat."

"Fiancé?! She's eleven!" Molly yelped.

"Stop shouting. Unless you're shouting at Lestrange to PLAY BY THE RULES, YOU PRAT!" Bellatrix yelled at the green form darting about the skies. He ignored her, of course. After a bit of glaring, the girl turned back to her friend.

"The Lestranges are a very powerful family. Father is quite pleased with the match."

"That's really weird."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Molly, we've been arranging marriages for hundreds of years. Love matches are the weird ones."

"But don't you believe in true love?"

"Can't say I've given it any thought. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to your brother."

With a dainty clearing of her throat, Bellatrix focused her attention on a smudge of red wielding a beater bat. "For Merlin's sake, Prewett, KNOCK THE GIT OFF HIS BROOM!"

_The wedding was steeped in tradition. Bellatrix was wearing the proper robes, proper charms, proper smile. She held her hand out indifferently for the binding. With a thin, willow wand, the runes were etched onto their linked arms. Each stroke burned like fire. Bellatrix giggled._

* * *

"Why are we taking this class, again?" Molly whispered.

Bellatrix sighed. "We've been over this. Divination has a very long and distinguished history. Mother would have a fit if I tried one of the newer classes."

"But my grandmum took Care of Magical Creatures!"

Bellatrix said, "If it hasn't been around for at least a hundred years, Mother doesn't want any part of it."

"That is so dumb," she said.

"Perhaps, but there is some sense to letting others test out new ideas before risking family."

Molly pouted. "I still don't like this class. It's creepy."

She gestured towards the swirling crystal balls, bottles of splintered bone, and deck of Tarot cards quietly shuffling themselves in the corner before adding, "Besides, I think the professor's staring at us."

"He's _blind._"

Molly huffed. "Well, he doesn't act blind."

At that moment, a tall, white-haired wizard stood from his desk. He glided to the center of the room, easily avoiding the furniture, scattered objects, and stuck-out foot of one smirking Slytherin.

The professor wheezed, "I welcome you to Divination. I am Professor Mopsus. Many will tell you that Divination is impossible to learn. That is true, in a sense. Fate is a fickle woman, and she shan't speak to everyone. However, an untrained seer is very rare, very rare indeed. To hear Fate's whispers, you must first learn to listen."

He cocked his head and was momentarily silent. "Before we begin, I must ask. How many students are here, today?"

After a few moments of murmuring, one boy shouted, "Thirteen, sir!"

Mopsus sighed. "I'm afraid one of you must leave."

"I'll go," Molly said.

Bellatrix glared. "You are not leaving me alone in this class."

"Oh, come on! It could be fate. Like Divination. You believe in that, right?"

"My mother believes in it," Bellatrix corrected.

"Now, now, students," Mopsus said. "I understand that this is a deeply upsetting occurrence. I would have been similarly heartbroken, should my chance to learn this art be taken away. Unfortunately, thirteen is a very unlucky number. Who was the last to enter?"

Before Molly could speak, Bellatrix said, "Probably Wakefield. He's late to everything."

"It wasn't me this time!" Wakefield shouted. "Perks forgot her book. She got in at least a minute after I did."

Mopsus turned toward a short, blonde girl who shrunk beneath his dull gaze. Bellatrix wondered how he knew where she was…or who she was, for that matter. "Miss Perks, is this true?"

"Yes, sir," she squeaked.

He sighed. "Very well. I would suggest you go to Professor Kettleburn. His class is by the Lake, probably looking for the Giant Squid. I will speak with Professor Sprout about your schedule change this evening."

"Yes, sir," Perks said. She paused at the door.

"Is there something you need, Miss Perks?" Mopsus asked.

"It's not a big deal that I was the thirteenth person, is it? I'm not going to die or anything?"

Mopsus chuckled. "No, Miss Perks. While the number thirteen can stir up negative magics, this single occurrence is of little consequence. It would be best if you didn't make a habit of being the thirteenth person in the room, however."

Perks ran off to find Kettleburn, and Mopsus clapped his hands to get the class's attention. "Now, who here is familiar with scrying?"

_Bellatrix spent her twenty-first birthday on a Death Eater raid. One of her spells – a disemboweling curse – hit her ex-professor, killing him instantly. She just smirked and kept casting. Moppsus had never liked her, anyway._

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**A/N: Mopsus is actually based on Rowling's early concept for the Divination professor, although all we know about him is that he was blind and actually talented. Thanks for all the follows and remember to review! Just because this is more-or-less written doesn't mean I can't be talked into a few omakes ;)  
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	3. In Which Alliances are Formed

Ch. 3: In Which Alliances are Formed

It was the summer after third year, and their mother was coaching Andromeda in Defense. Feeling pathetic, Bellatrix hovered outside the door. She wished desperately to be in her younger sister's place. A small shriek echoed through the house as Andy was caught by a cutting hex.

"Faster, idiot girl," the woman snapped.

Well, not _that_ desperately.

"Standing around isn't going to change anything."

Bellatrix winced. Sure, she hadn't been expecting privacy, not in a house full of snakes, but being caught eavesdropping by your ten-year-old sister is just embarrassing. "I'm aware."

"Then why don't you go do something? Duel with me, read a book, mix some poison…"

"Cissy! We do _not_ poison our family…Well, not openly, at least."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Do what you want; I really don't care. I'm just saying that, if you want to stay as Father's heir, you're going to have to get moving. He's already let Andy into his library."

Bellatrix frowned. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Narcissa laughed. "Guess you really are going soft. If you have to be told, you don't deserve the information."

"It's hard to eavesdrop when everyone of note is on the opposite end of the castle."

"I'm not even in the castle, and I'm doing well enough," she said.

Bellatrix huffed, unable to argue. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that Narcissa hadn't yet been sorted into Slytherin, though the thought of her anywhere else seemed ludicrous.

The blonde leaned in, practically purring, "Let me enlighten you. Andy doesn't want to marry Lestrange and she will do _anything_ she must to ensure she never has to. Simple enough for you, Bella?"

"Yes," she grumbled.

"Good. Try not to lose, okay? I'd hate to see Andy's head get any bigger."

Their mother's voice was muffled by the door. "Your performance was barely acceptable. Do improve upon it next time, and make sure to clean up after yourself. If I find bloodstains, I will not be pleased."

Bellatrix was safely out of sight by the time the stone-faced woman strode from the room.

_Bellatrix found the ritual in her father's library and performed it a few weeks after her fourteenth birthday. For the rest of her life, all her pain would be pleasure and all her pleasure pain. Life only got better, from there._

* * *

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, it's only a Stinging Hex, Prewett!"

"It _hurts_."

"Oh, how awful! Do you need a band-aid? Maybe I should kiss it better?" Bellatrix crooned.

"You're mean," Molly muttered.

She snorted. "Stop whining and start dodging. I could take one of these without flinching when I was five. You can put up with it long enough to avoid a couple spells. Besides, if you could summon a decent shield, this wouldn't be a problem."

Molly pouted. "This wasn't what I meant when I asked you to tutor me in Defense."

"You're not going to get an O if I coddle you."

"When I tutored you in potions, I didn't shove your face into the cauldron every time it exploded," Molly said.

"That was different. I only needed some advice and a little explanation of theory. You've got all that down in Defense. What you need is speed and reflexes. The only way to get those is through practice. You do want to get better, right?" Bellatrix stared at her, daring the shorter girl to admit to wasting their time.

"Yes," Molly sighed.

"Then DODGE!"

_If it weren't for Arthur's intervention, Molly would have failed her Defense OWL. Returning from summer break, her Outstanding results in hand, she enclosed him in a bone-breaking hug. Afterwards, he turned red every time she walked in the room. She couldn't imagine why._

* * *

Bellatrix's sisters stood just within the doorway of Andromeda's room, arguing in whispers.

"He's obviously having an affair," Andromeda said.

"No he's not. What is wrong with you?" Narcissa hissed.

"Oh, please, just think about it – all his disappearances, the way he stalks about the house like a pleased cat…You'd best come to terms with it. You'll have to deal with this sort of thing all the time when you marry Malfoy."

"No, I won't."

"Honestly, Narcissa. Grow up," Andromeda said with a roll of her eyes.

"What's going on?" Bellatrix asked.

The brunette smirked. "Oh, just telling Cissy the ways of the world."

Narcissa said, "We're trying to figure out where Father keeps disappearing to."

Bellatrix hummed thoughtfully. Of course she had noticed her father's disappearances. She always kept her eyes open to useful information. Bellatrix was no oblivious Puff, no matter what her family seemed to think.

"He's running off every night to meet his mistress," Andromeda insisted.

"Then why is Mother so happy?" Narcissa retorted.

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Mother is happy?"

"Oh, you know what I mean. She hasn't hexed me in almost a week. That's downright chipper for her."

"Maybe she's glad Father took a mistress," Andromeda said.

"Why would she be glad about that?" the blonde grumbled.

"Oh, Cissy, you are _such_ a kid…"

Bellatrix interrupted, "You're the Slytherins, so I imagine you've been nosing around for a while. How do you plan to figure this out?"

"Oh, I'll just continue spying until I discover something that proves my point. Perhaps I could break into Father's study…"

"I'll do the same thing, I guess. If I just-so-happen to be lingering in the hallway when Father has one of his meetings, I can hardly be blamed for overhearing something important. I do live here, after all," Narcissa said.

Bellatrix laughed. "Always have to make things difficult, don't you? I have a better idea."

She slipped down the stairs, through the old halls and into the parlor where their mother sat stiffly, blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"Mother?" Bellatrix called, prepared to flee if the woman was in a foul mood.

"Yes?" she said coolly. She didn't look up from the book in her hands.

"Andy was worried about where Father's been going these past few weeks. Her imagination's been running wild, I'm afraid. She was quite hysterical when I last saw her," Bellatrix said sweetly.

"He's contemplating a new alliance."

"With who?"

"An old pureblood from abroad. His power is quite unrivaled, if your father is to be believed, and he's been attempting to establish himself in Britain. He calls himself Lord Voldemort" – the woman wrinkled her nose – "I think he might be French."

_Andromeda couldn't stand straight for a month after she snuck into her father's study. Really, she should have known better than to expect her Slytherin sisters to keep a secret._

* * *

**A/N: "Vol de mort" apparently means "Flight from death" in French, which could only be a handicap to a wizard intent on taking over Britain. The Black sisters ended up playing a larger role in this than I originally anticipated, so I hope you'll enjoy their future interactions. More coming in the next few days. Remember to review!  
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	4. In Which Love is Contemplated

Ch. 4: In Which Love Is Contemplated

"Hey! Cut it out," snapped Bellatrix. The girl had taken to being a prefect with unnerving enthusiasm. The fifth year stalked towards the group of first-years, eyes narrowed at the sneering Slytherins. A tiny Hufflepuff girl sniffled in the corner.

"Right. You lot were harassing one of my Puffs."

"This is obviously a misunderstanding..."

She focused her attention on the pale-faced blond. "No use denying it. I'm not your mother, I'm not Slughorn, and I'm not an idiot. I'd say this is…twenty points from Slytherin and a detention with Filch for each of you."

"Don't you think that's a touch extreme?"

"What's your name?" Bellatrix demanded.

The boy lifted his chin and stared at the prefect disdainfully. It might have been intimidating, if he weren't a head shorter. "Lucius Malfoy."

"You're an insult to your house, Mr. Malfoy. Such blatant bullying is both short-sighted and utterly unnecessary. Now leave, before I make it two detentions."

His lips pressed into a thin line, Lucius quickly retreated along with the other Slytherins.

Bellatrix turned towards Molly, who was comforting the watery-eyed girl. "Why do all my future brother-in-laws have to be idiots?"

"What? Another one?"

The brunette groaned. "Yep, Lucius Malfoy is Cissy's fiancé. He'd better grow some brains in the next seven years or she'll have to keep him tightly leashed."

Molly nodded. She spent another minute with the bullied first-year, before sending the girl off with a couple of her classmates and a cookie. Suddenly, a queer look crossed Molly's face, and she said, "Erm, Bella?"

"Yes?"

"You're not engaged to anyone, right?"

"No. I'm Father's heir. I'm much too valuable to sign away without some serious thought. My husband automatically gains Father's artifacts, the library, and becomes fourth in line for the title Lord Black. As such, I'm to remain unattached until Father chooses a suitable match."

"Oh. So I don't have to worry about meeting some jerk who turns out to be your fiancé?"

"No. Not yet, at least. There's been some talk about engaging me to my cousin Sirius, but that would be really awkward."

"'Cause he's your cousin?" Molly asked.

"Because he's seven."

"Ew." The redhead wrinkled her nose.

"My thoughts exactly."

Molly's eyes lit up, and she clasped her hands together with excitement. "This is great news! You're free to date."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far…Molly?"

The redhead was rushing down the hall, muttering about hairstyles and blind dates. Bellatrix sighed. This was going to be a very long year.

_Bellatrix considered sabotaging Lucius Malfoy's first mission. She would have enjoyed watching him writhe and scream under her master's wand. Unfortunately, she was too devoted to ruin one of the Dark Lord's schemes and the fool became Voldemort's Right Hand. _

* * *

The two girls sat side by side at their house table. The taller of the two, a sixteen year old with flowing black hair, bit into her roll with the viciousness of a rabid dog. Molly, her red hair in a fluffy bob, played with the bright yellow tablecloth. She stole nervous glances at Bellatrix, who was studiously ignoring the shorter girl.

"You're not still angry at me, are you?"

Bellatrix's head whipped toward her, eyes narrowed. "You dosed Bradley Wakefield with a love potion."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you don't have a crush on him. You've been sighing over those misty gray eyes of his for _weeks_. I'm your best friend; I know these things."

"I do not have a crush on Wakefield! And, even if I did, he's a Half Blood. Mother would kill me if I dated him," Bellatrix said.

"Your Mother disapproves of everyone. And you're the cleverest girl I know. You could hide your relationship."

"He declared his undying love for me in front of the whole common room!"

Molly raised her eyebrows. "We're Hufflepuffs; it's not like any of us would tell your mother, and we wouldn't gossip about it with the other houses, either. Plus, it could have been worse. He could have confessed here."

She gestured at the Great Hall, where hundreds of students devoured their dinner.

Bellatrix fell into a thoughtful silence. "You know, you're right. It would have been a lot more embarrassing if you'd sent Wakefield after me in the Great Hall."

Molly beamed. "See? It was just a little prank. You'll be laughing about this in no time."

The answering grin on the brunette's face was worryingly large. "Just a prank, eh?"

Bellatrix Black stood up and cast a sonorous charm upon her throat. "HEY WEASLEY! Molly Prewett's got a huge crush on you!" Across the Hall, the Gryffindor grew as red as a tomato. Bellatrix swiftly removed the charm, her voice dropping to a mutter. "Can't imagine why."

Bellatrix smiled at her wide-eyed friend. "You're right, Molly. I'm laughing already. Have fun!" Chuckling, the girl sauntered out of the Great Hall.

_Bellatrix was seventeen when she decided that, yes, going on a raid with the Dark Lord definitely counted as a date._

* * *

Bellatrix nibbled the end of her quill – a bad habit which she blamed entirely on Molly. She considered writing that accusation down to fill a little space. Her summer had been fairly uneventful, after all, and it would be funny to read the redhead's impassioned response. Deciding against it, she quickly signed her name.

"This is boring," Narcissa groaned, sprawled across the couch. It was big, musty, and smelled vaguely like blood. Bellatrix suspected it was over a hundred, like everything else in her uncle's house.

The blonde turned to her cousins. "What do you do for fun, around here?"

"Read," Regulus answered.

"Hex Regulus," Sirius said at the same moment.

"Sirius had his foot cut off, once," Regulus added.

"Ugh, why couldn't this have been at our house? At least we have a garden."

Bellatrix sighed. "You know very well that it would be an insult to host the Dark Lord in a branch house."

"But the main house is awful," – Narcissa turned to the boys – "No offense."

"None taken," the younger boy assured her.

Sirius said, "It's completely awful."

"I wish they'd let us inside, though," Narcissa said.

"They're discussing sensitive issues, and the Dark Lord wouldn't want children distracting him," Bellatrix said.

"Andy got to go."

"Andy's older" Bellatrix said.

"Not older than you," Regulus pointed out.

She scowled. "I'm stuck babysitting."

Bellatrix turned back to her letter, and, after a slight hesitation, wrote, _"P.S. Tell Wakefield I said hi."_

Narcissa jumped up. "What are you writing?"

"Just a letter to Molly," Bellatrix said, stuffing it into her robe pocket.

Jumping up from the couch, Sirius declared, "I've got a brilliant idea."

"Does it involve sitting quietly and obeying our parent's orders?"Bellatrix wasn't sure if her sarcasm flew right over his head, or if the boy was being deliberately dense.

"Better. We're going to go find out what they're talking about. I know the way, and it'll be loads more fun than sitting around," Sirius said.

"We'll get in trouble," Regulus protested.

Narcissa grinned. "No we won't. If anyone asks, Siri was playing a trick on me and Reg was being quiet, like usual."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "And the person specifically tasked with keeping you out of trouble was…?"

"A naïve Hufflepuff, taken in by her cousin's tricks."

Bellatrix laughed, shaking her head. "That would never work."

"Only one way to find out," Sirius said.

Bellatrix frowned. It was a ridiculous plan, of course. But Andromeda was upstairs, and she did want to know what was going on. Knowledge was power, after all, and – in a Slytherin household – power was everything.

"Fine."

Sirius led them through the twisting hallways and onto the staircase. "Avoid the fourth step," he warned. "Sometimes, it likes to cut off people's feet."

After that, it was easy enough to sneak down the hall and creep up to the door. Bellatrix waited a few steps down the hall, curiosity and disapproval warring on her face. Delicately, Narcissa pressed her ear against the door.

"What are they saying?" Sirius whispered.

Narcissa frowned. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I can't hear anything…I think they might be using a Silencing Charm."

Bellatrix sighed. "Of course they are. Now, let's go back downstairs-"

The door opened, sending Narcissa crashing to the floor. A handsome man watched her from the doorway, his dark eyes emotionless. "An eavesdropper?"

"I-I can explain," the little blonde stuttered. Lazily, the man raised his wand. Bellatrix could practically feel his power build, leaving the air thick and heavy. She could barely breathe before it, let alone move. So this was the Dark Lord…

Sirius raced forward, standing between Narcissa and the Dark Lord. He tilted his chin up defiantly. "It's my fault. I talked her into it."

"Clearly, no one has ever taught you to respect authority," he said. The older Blacks crowded behind him in the doorway. They weren't going to interfere, whether out of approval or self-preservation, Bellatrix didn't know. She did know, however, that she couldn't leave her ten-year-old cousin to the tender mercies of a dark wizard.

"It was my fault, my lord. I should have been watching the children, but I failed to do so." The brunette walked forward, head bowed in quiet deference. She hoped he would take pity on her.

He did not.

"Crucio," he said.

Everything was gone: fear, awe, loyalty. All that remained was pain, as if she were submerged in an ocean of razor blades and bludgeoning hexes. It spread to every nerve, from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. Even her teeth ached as she screamed herself hoarse. Finally, it ended, but a shadow of the pain remained, her entire body aching. She'd never before realized that a lifetime could fit in five seconds.

"Control your children," the Dark Lord said. He stepped on Bellatrix's hand on his way down the hallway.

Later, she would learn that Sirius and Narcissa dragged her back to the parlor, keeping her company until she regained coherency an hour later. From that day onward, she feared the Dark Lord, yet that fear was tainted with hatred. He had tried to hurt her _family_.

Soon, he would succeed.

_Bellatrix spent a week checking herself for every love potion possible, before finally deciding that the Dark Lord was simply that charming._

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and, most of all, reviews. I'd like to thank krikanalo, in particular, for reviewing every chapter!**


	5. In Which Sisters Trade Favors

Ch. 5: In Which Sisters Trade Favors

Bellatrix stepped through her common room's portrait entrance, juggling an armful of books. They were all feather-light, yet making it to the library without dropping them seemed an impossible task.

Focused on her load of Herbology texts, she failed to notice the first-year standing in her way. "Gah!" she yelled, tripping and landing amid a rain of library books. Madam Pince was going to kill her for this; she just knew it.

Bellatrix lifted her head, shooting a glare at the girl. Rather than the sheepish expression and warm, yellow robes she'd been expecting, however, Bellatrix found the blue eyes of her younger sister. "Cissy?"

"Finally! I've been waiting out here _forever_," Narcissa whined.

"How did you find my common room?" the brunette demanded, quickly standing up.

"One of your prefects might be under the impression that I'm homesick."

"Are you?" Bellatrix asked.

Narcissa looked insulted. "Of course not. Honestly, have you _been_ to our home? Besides, that's not the point. I need your help."

"Really, my baby sister, who hasn't so much as said 'hi' to me since term started, suddenly needs my help. What makes you think I _want_ to help someone so inconsiderate?"

The blonde smiled sweetly. "Because you're my favorite sister, and I love you?"

"I may be a Hufflepuff, but you're really underestimating me here, sis."

Narcissa pouted. "I happen to do my homework in a room swirling with rumors. I might mention some of them to my beloved older sister. Unintentionally, of course. Happy now?"

"Very much so," Bellatrix purred, stacking her books in the tiny blonde's hands with a sweep of her wand. "Now, help me get these books to the library and we'll talk."

Their walk to the library was a short one. After dropping the books off in front of the thin-lipped Madam Pince, the Black sisters nonchalantly walked to a dusty corner of the library where Bellatrix cast a few privacy charms.

"So," Bellatrix said, "What's going on?"

Narcissa glanced around nervously. After a few moments, she seemed satisfied that no one was watching. She pointed her wand at her face and muttered, "Finite."

Bellatrix burst out into laughter as the blonde's glamour fell, revealing a pair of elephant-sized ears.

Narcissa frowned. "Stop that. It's isn't funny, and these things are very sensitive."

After a few moments, the older girl regained her composure. "Sorry, sorry. So, who did you piss off?"

The blonde sighed. "Lestrange, Nott, Andy, and a couple others. They were talking about last year's Defense Professor."

"The one who coughed up his liver?"

"Uh-huh. They had pictures and everything. It was kind of creepy. Now, I _coincidentally _happened to be walking past an abandoned classroom, because I'm a first year and first years get lost, when they were gloating about slipping something into his soup. They caught me. Andy was the worst. She kept threatening to cut out my tongue, the jerk. Instead, they just decided to leave me with these." She wrinkled her nose, glancing at an oversized ear from the corner of her eye.

"You shouldn't be eavesdropping on people you can't take in a fight," Bellatrix chastised her.

"Oh, Bella, most of them are too dumb to worry about. They should have made me swear an oath of silence. I mean, we're hardly the epitome of familial trust. And their attempts to humiliate me with these ears are just pathetic. Although I'm having the toughest time removing them…" Narcissa said.

"I see. And you haven't gone to the Hospital Wing because…?"

The blonde pouted. "Honestly, Bella, you're such a Puff, sometimes. If I went to Pomfrey, the whole school would know by lunch. Also, you're my big sister. You _have_ to help me with these things."

"Andy's the one who cursed you in the first place, so it's hardly a requirement. Also, stop saying things like that. I'm not Slughorn, and my little sister is no suck-up."

"Right, cut back on the false flattery. Got it. You're still gonna help me, right?" she demanded.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Of course I am. I'll just need some books, the information you promised, and a camera."

"A camera?" Narcissa asked, dread creeping into her voice.

The brunette grinned. "For blackmail."

_The plot to help the Defense Curse along was spread throughout Slytherin. Nott came up with the idea, Lestrange organized the conspiracy, and Bellatrix discovered the perfect potion. The phrase "dinner with a show" sent her into hysterical laughter for years, afterwards._

* * *

Sobs – not at all like Narcissa's crocodile tears or Bellatrix's muffled weeping – pushed through the eastern wall of the Hufflepuff's bedroom. There was no attempt to quiet the broken cries or the pained gasps that sometimes interrupted them. Within minutes, Bellatrix was knocking on her sister's door.

"Andy?"

There was no answer.

Bellatrix tentatively continued. "Andy, you forgot to put up a Silencing Charm."

A soft curse greeted her pronouncement.

"Andy…Do you mind if I come in?"

Her sister wrenched the door open. Andromeda looked like hell – her eyes red, her dark hair wild and her nightgown askew to reveal a blazing red mark on her arm. She hissed, "Fine."

Bellatrix hurried through before her sister changed her mind.

"What do you want, Bella?"

"I want…" – Bellatrix paused for a moment – "I want to know if you're okay."

Andromeda snorted. "Of course you do. I suppose you want to wish me a happy birthday, while you're at it? Or, oh, what about a Merry Christmas?"

Bellatrix frowned. "I'm trying to help. No need to be rude. Besides, Christmas isn't for three days, and your birthday ended four hours ago."

"Four hours? That long?" – Andromeda laughed darkly – "I guess time flies when you're having fun."

"Andy…" Bellatrix spoke softly.

"I'm fine, Bella, angry but _fine. _Turns out, the initiation ritual hurts like crazy, and no one bothered to tell me. Lestrange thought it was great fun. Even the Dark Lord was smirking. Madman. One minute, he's kissing your hand and, the next, he's making you scream."

"I'll get a salve for your arm," Bellatrix said.

"Don't bother. The pain's all mental."

Bellatrix looked skeptical. "Your skin's red."

"I've been scratching it. Don't do that, when it's your turn. It really doesn't help."

"Oh," Bellatrix said softly. They were silent, for a minute, Bellatrix shuffling from foot to foot, and Andy on the bed, rubbing furiously at her arm.

"You can sit down, you know," Andromeda said.

"Thanks," Bellatrix said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Bellatrix had grown uncomfortable with silence, living so often in the Hufflepuff dorms. She was nearly half-way through her last year at school, however, so she supposed she'd have to get used to it. Still, it wasn't long before Bellatrix said, "I'm surprised you let me in. We haven't spoken like this for years, not since we've been in Hogwarts."

"Yes, well, we were competing, then," Andromeda said.

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "We aren't competing now?"

Andromeda smiled tiredly. "No. I won."

"You what?"

"Oh, come now, Bella. You aren't that dumb. Mother and Father have been prepping me to inherit since my Sorting…since your Sorting, really. Now that I've pledged my allegiance to the Dark Lord, I think they'll make it official. Father even talked about engaging me to the Dark Lord. It would be a wonderful match. He's powerful and rather handsome, if a bit unhinged."

"But what about Lestrange?"

Andromeda's lips twitched, so that the smile looked wrong, unnatural. "He's less handsome, but similarly unhinged."

"What about your _engagement_?" Bellatrix snapped.

"The engagement is for a daughter of the House of Black. You fit that description just as well as I do," Andromeda said.

"I don't want to marry him," Bellatrix said peevishly, "He's your friend; you should be his bride."

"Lestrange isn't my friend."

"Andy, you aren't even in the same year, and you still spend all your time with him."

She shook her head. "He is my ally, my fellow Death Eater, and my future brother-in-law, not my friend. Slytherins don't have friends."

Bellatrix frowned. "Cissy told me you didn't want to marry him. Why?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes, muttering. "That's what I get for expecting a Slytherin to keep a secret."

"Andy," Bellatrix pleaded, "please tell me. If I'm going to marry him, I need to know."

She sighed. "He's an arse and a bully. Also, he tends to rough up his girlfriends."

"He's dating?" Bellatrix asked in surprise.

"You aren't?"

Bellatrix hoped the darkness would hide her blush and forced herself to speak calmly. "Not exactly."

"That means yes," Andromeda said with a mischievous smile. "Who is he?"

"We've only been on one date. It won't come to anything."

"Of course it won't – you're engaged to Lestrange – but who _is_ he?" The brunette leaned forward, eyes bright and flaming arm forgotten.

"Just a boy in my House. No one important."

"If he weren't important, you'd have told me who he was," Andromeda reasoned. "I'll find out, whether you tell me now or not."

Bellatrix sighed. Her sister was right, after all. Ten minutes with one of the younger Puffs and she'd know anything. She might as well save a child some trauma. "His name's Wakefield."

Her lips curled. "You're dating a Mudblood?"

"Barely."

"Father could kill you for that."

"It's just a little fun for my last year. You only know because I told you," Bellatrix argued. Her eyes then widened and she said, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Andromeda chuckled. "I've already won our little competition, so I don't need to ruin your reputation. Don't worry, sister; I'll keep your secret."

"I'm glad." Bellatrix's sigh of relief morphed into a yawn.

"You should sleep," she said.

Bellatrix nodded and rose from the bed. She was at the open door when Andromeda called out.

"Bella?" The brunette looked small upon the bed, a hint of red still peeking out from the sleeve of her nightgown. She looked like the little sister Bellatrix remembered from before Hogwarts, when they didn't worry about who would become heir and no one even considered that they wouldn't be in Slytherin.

"Yes?" Bellatrix asked.

Andy's eyes remained fixed upon the reddened Dark Mark upon her arm. She whispered, "Thank you."

_Andromeda swore she'd stopped dating the Mudblood, and Bellatrix believed her because she was family. And, then…she wasn't._

* * *

Wakefield was dead. His whole family was dead, killed in a Death Eater raid.

Bellatrix paced the halls, eyes staring dully forward. She couldn't go back to the Hufflepuff dorms. Everyone was crying, hugging, reminiscing about Wakefield, and crying again. Bellatrix had fled, unable to stand another minute as Molly's pillow.

It wasn't that she disliked Wakefield. Sure, he could be an idiot, always running into class at the last minute and grinning at just about everything. Still, she'd sent him chocolate frogs when he'd landed in the Hospital Wing. They'd studied for OWLs together, along with the rest of her Hufflepuff year mates. They'd shared a table at the Three Broomsticks. He'd even declared his love for her, once, during the Love Potion Incident. He was a _Hufflepuff_. They all were.

She'd never cared for great, theatrical displays of grief, however, preferring to mourn in silence. And plot revenge, if the situation called for it.

Unfortunately, escaping the common room had done little to soothe her frustration. The rest of the school was going on as if nothing had happened. No one outside of Hufflepuff had charmed their robes fully black, grown quiet, or even mentioned the boy.

She growled at a group of giggling Second Years, scowling as they scattered. Only one remained behind.

Narcissa fell into step beside her sister. "What's got you so angry?"

"A student died," Bellatrix snapped.

"So?"

"So," she hissed, "He was a person, he didn't need to die, and nobody's even noticed."

Narcissa said, "Of course we all aren't sobbing in the halls. He was just a Hufflepuff."

Her sister glared.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. He was a Hufflepuff, he spent all his time with Hufflepuffs, and all the Hufflepuffs are upset. It makes sense. You wouldn't be upset if a Slytherin died, would you?"

"Yes, I would," Bellatrix said.

Narcissa hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose you're a bad example. You want to be a Slytherin. Maybe you'd be less sympathetic toward a Gryffindor?"

"I'd still be at least a little upset."

"Right, fine…Where are you going, anyway?" Narcissa asked, half-running to keep up with her sister's frenetic pace.

Bellatrix shrugged. "Nowhere in particular. I'm just walking."

"Oh, I don't suppose you could 'just walk' in a different direction?"

"Why?" Bellatrix inquired, continuing forward.

"Because I don't want you to get into a fight with Andy and her friends. You wouldn't win," Narcissa said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Um…It's probably better if you don't know." The blonde smiled weakly, hurrying down a side passage. She glanced back, frowning slightly when her older sister failed to follow. Curious, Bellatrix continued forward.

Turning the corner, she saw a group of Slytherins gathered around Andromeda and Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange's eyes were wide, his hand trembling wildly as he mimed holding a wand and his voice breathy as he dramatically stretched out each word. "Why are you doing this? I didn't do _anything_ to you!"

Laughter greeted his performance, and Bellatrix stood in shock. Lestrange was mimicking Wakefield. Her housemate was dead, and they were mocking him.

Andromeda stepped forward, a small smirk on her lips. "Shut up, Mudblood," she purred.

The brunette glanced upwards, smile widening when she saw Bellatrix watching. She winked and then turned her attention back to her performance.

Her lips moved soundlessly, forming the words "Avada Kedavra" as she slashed her wand at Lestrange. With a loud gurgle, Lestrange slowly fell backwards, taking almost a minute to reach the ground. Andromeda curtsied deeply in response to the Slytherin's applause, but her eyes stayed fixed on Bellatrix. A smile lingered on her bright lips as she mouthed, "You're welcome."

Andromeda was family, and Bellatrix couldn't bring herself to hex her for no good reason. Their parents would have approved of her actions, after all, and maybe Andromeda had even been trying to do her sister a favor by killing the boy who could ruin her reputation. After all, Bellatrix was the one who had betrayed her family's beliefs by befriending a Mudblood.

Still, in a strange way, Wakefield and Molly and all the others were family, too. Bellatrix fled back to the Hufflepuff dorms, feeling sick to her stomach. She was a traitor, she thought, but she wasn't sure who she was betraying.

_Bellatrix's first kill was a classmate with warm gray eyes and an easy smile. Her robes were drenched in his filthy, filthy blood, but she had never felt cleaner._

* * *

**A/N: The way I see it, this situation isn't that different from Sirius's. When one sibling fails to live up to expectations, the others are pressured to take up the slack. As such, while Andromeda will never be quite the same brand of crazy as Bellatrix, she will end up fulfilling a similar role. On another note, I like to think that Narcissa's Slytherin tendencies are balanced by her love of showing off. Like mother like son, I suppose. Again, I'd like to thank all my amazing reviewers and, in general, all my readers.  
**


	6. In Which There are Unexpected Visitors

Ch. 6: In Which There are Unexpected Visitors

Bellatrix hid in her bedroom, watching the day's events play over and over again on the ceiling – the absentminded acknowledgment of her eighteenth birthday, the announcement of her betrothal to Lestrange, Andy's smug smirk, her own pathetic tears…She could _see _them, as if photographs were pasted against the dark wood.

She wasn't sure if that was all in her head or if it was more accidental magic. She'd already shattered her lamp, a few hours earlier, and her magic had stubbornly refused to repair it.

Her door cracked open, and Bellatrix squinted against the torchlight at her younger sister.

"Cissy, what are you doing here?" Bellatrix muttered.

"You left the door unlocked," she said.

Bellatrix sat up in bed, frowning. Her hand crept under the pillow to curl around her wand. "That's not what I meant."

Narcissa sighed. "I know. I was avoiding the question. It's a Slytherin thing."

"Well, I was asking a question to get an answer. It's a Hufflepuff thing."

The blonde stepped inside, closing the door behind her. A small smile played at her lips. "How quaint."

Bellatrix was too tired to play Narcissa's games, that night. "What do you want?"

"It's Lestrange. A few weeks ago, he crucioed a third year for using his favorite chair. He scares me" – her voice grew shrill – "He's a bully and a murderer and you're only a Hufflepuff. You don't even lock your doors, for Merlin's sake!"

Narcissa raised her chin stubbornly, declaring, "You can't marry him."

"I don't have a choice," Bellatrix said.

The brunette was exhausted. Why did she have to be a Hufflepuff? She could have been the heir to their branch of the Black family. Not beloved, exactly, but respected. Sure, she wouldn't have gotten to know the other Puffs, but she wasn't allowed to see them, anyway. Her friendships had been frowned upon even when they were considered childish and inconsequential. Now, she was an adult, a Hogwarts graduate and full-fledged Black. She could never be friends with Light families.

Two weeks and she already missed them.

"Honestly, Bella, be a Slytherin, for once!" the blonde snapped.

Bellatrix, broken harshly from her moping, said, "What?"

"You're always saying you ought to be a Slytherin, but you don't act like one. Look out for yourself. Leave. Stop being so stupidly loyal."

"But, Mother and Father…"

"Don't care about you," Narcissa said.

"What about you and Andy?"

"Forget Andy," she hissed. "This is all her fault, anyway. And I'll be just fine. I like my fiancé. He's cute and very rich. We've even been on a few dates."

"Thirteen is way too young to date," Bellatrix said.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "We're already engaged; some free food and a few kisses won't make much difference. Stop changing the subject."

"I can't just leave. After my reaction, this morning, they'll be watching me."

Narcissa raised her wand, and coolly cast a cutting curse. Bellatrix reflexively flinched, though it passed far to her left, hitting her cloak.

"Oh, look. You tore your cloak. You'll certainly need a new one. As long as you're out, could you buy me some new stationary? Oh, and how about another bottle of shampoo? I dare say you'll be gone all afternoon. And, if you happened to not come home, I don't suppose anyone would notice for a while. Do you?"

Mutely, Bellatrix shook her head.

"How tragic. You may want to send a letter, afterwards, just so no one comes looking for you."

Bellatrix cleared her throat. "You're amazing, Cissy. I can't believe you would do this for me. If Mother found out, you would be in so much trouble…"

Narcissa snorted. "It's not my fault your stupid Hufflepuffness is so contagious."

_When the letter arrived, their mother tore it to pieces, lit them on fire, and threw blasting curses at the ashes. Afterwards, she cheerfully announced that her middle daughter was dead. They held a funeral._

* * *

Two weeks after graduation, Molly was still unemployed. She could have filled a bookcase with all the job applications she'd filled out in the past few days. She groaned, cracking her back and abandoning the hopelessly large stack still awaiting her attention. She'd come back to them later, when the letters stopped changing places.

Molly wandered down the halls of her home, where dozens of photos winked down at her from every wall. The carefully engorged, three-bedroom home could have fit in one of the wealthier families' foyers, but she didn't mind. There were only five of them living in the house, and – unlike most Purebloods – she actually liked to see her family.

A passing breeze, smelling sweetly of baking, sent her hurrying into the kitchen.

"Cookies!" she squealed.

Leaning up against the counter, Gideon grinned. He held the plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies above his head, far from her reach.

"Not so fast, oh Molly dearest. After all, these cookies contain a piece of my heart, you know. I can't give them to just anyone, especially someone who so callously disregarded the feelings of that very same heart."

Molly sighed, "You're still angry that I didn't tell you about Arthur, aren't you?"

"Angry?" Gideon gasped, one hand slapping his forehead while the other precariously balanced the plate. "Oh, Merlin no. I'm not angry. I'm devastated! My precious baby sister was off with a hormonal, reckless boyfriend of indiscernible repute, and I had no idea. Without my guidance, how could you safely navigate the muddy waters of love? Without the constant threat of bodily harm, how could your boyfriend be trusted not to injure your own delicate heart?"

"Right," Molly said, "I'll be over at the table not listening to you. Lemme know when you decide to give me a cookie."

Gideon's rant continued unabated. "Worse still, my darling sister finally shows up with this fool, this scoundrel, this criminal who inspired her to lie to her own beloved brother, and strikes me with the killing blow: He's goodhearted. How am I supposed to threaten to tear the arms off of my sister's boyfriend when–"

Gideon was interrupted by the doorbell. He paused, glancing at Molly. The girl's head was currently resting on the table, her hands clamped against her ears while she hummed the Hogwarts Song. With a shrug, he headed for the door and opened it to reveal Bellatrix Black, looking neat and put together in her dark robes and small, black hat. Her hand touched the side of the house, and she leaned against it a little.

"Ah, Molly's little friend," he said, "I had often wondered if you were but a figment of my poor sister's wild imagination. And yet I knew that I, too, had once confirmed your existence, though not for many years. Then, I wondered if you hated us, to never visit. I nearly wept, but here you are, safe and sound upon our doorstep. I must ask, what brings you to our humble abode?"

Bellatrix stared dazedly forward. "I…think I just ran away."

Gideon paused for a moment, his usual bravado tempered by surprise.

"Oh," he said, and then, glancing down at the plate still in his hand, offered, "Cookie?"

_Andy could have had everything – money, power, family – but chose to run away with a Mudblood. Bellatrix received the honor of permanently blasting the name Andromeda Black from the family tree. She closed her eyes as she released the sizzling spell, pretending the target was her sister's face._

* * *

**A/N: Again, thank you to all my readers and reviewers. Your comments are _always_ appreciated.**


	7. In Which Families Grow

Ch. 7: In Which Families Grow

"Puce?" Bellatrix said, voice dripping disdain. "You want the most expensive robes you're ever going to wear to be _puce_?"

Molly flipped another page of the wedding magazine, revealing a new group of beaming, frantically waving brides. She sprawled across her bed while her friend sat primly at its edge. "Well, maybe. I was thinking about it."

"Puce," she muttered. "Why not something a little classier, like black?"

The redhead wrinkled her nose. "That's so boring and…and funeral-like."

"Everyone in my family wore black. I would have, if I hadn't left."

"Well, yeah, you're the Blacks," Molly pointed out. "Ooh, what about this one?"

Bellatrix peeked over her shoulder, "Canary yellow, really?"

"It's a Hufflepuff color," Molly argued.

"So is black!"

"That's different."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, leaning over to flip the magazine's page. "The teal isn't bad. It'll look great with your hair."

"Mm, too much like the time Gideon turned my hair green."

"Right, right, he mentioned that," she said absentmindedly. "Didn't you burn off his in retaliation?"

"Yeah, eyebrows and all. It was funny" – Molly shook her head – "I still can't believe you're dating my brother."

"We aren't dating!"

The redhead looked at her skeptically. "You went on a date, right?"

"Yes," Bellatrix said warily.

"And you'd like to go on another one?"

"I wouldn't mind, no."

"Then you're dating!" Molly declared. "Merlin, this is weird. Don't get me wrong, I've been secretly hoping you'd become my sister-in-law since Third Year, but Gideon?"

"What's wrong with Gideon?" Bellatrix grumbled.

Molly giggled. "Oh, you are _so_ dating. And nothing's wrong with him, it's just not what I expected, is all. I mean, remember when you guys met, and you said you didn't like him because 'you had taste?'"

Bellatrix snorted. "I was twelve; I had no idea what I was talking about, and I don't know why you're being so obnoxious about this. I didn't give you a hard time when Arthur proposed and you forgot to tell me for three days, did I?"

"You didn't talk to me for a week!" Molly said.

Bellatrix smirked. "Yes, exactly. If I were giving you a hard time, I would have waited until the day before the wedding, and you would have worn a puce dress. It would have been absolutely awful."

_Molly sighed wistfully over her wedding photos, her fingers tracing the sweeping fabric of her dress robes. Puce was such a lovely color._

* * *

Gideon practically dragged Bellatrix to the front of the parlor, grinning and nodding at everyone he passed. He clapped his hands gleefully. "Order members, friends, colleagues, mentors, scary aurors, scariest auror," he began, nodding towards a glowering Moody, "on this fine and wonderful day, with the sun shining down upon us in joy…"

A chuckling Fabian interrupted, "It's raining, Giddy."

He didn't miss a beat. "As the storm clouds smile upon us with joy, I have come to these hallowed halls to introduce to you the love of my life, the sun of my sky, my very reason for existence…"

"We're dating," Bellatrix said.

Gideon clutched his chest. "Your words are a knife to my heart!"

With a slight smirk, she added, "Casually."

"I bleed!" he wailed. His head rose up with the cry, only to thump down against his chest a moment later.

After a minute, Bellatrix decided that he probably wasn't going to move anytime soon. She faced the crowd, her lips pulled into a tight smile. "I'm Bellatrix Black. It's a pleasure to meet you."

A murmur rose in the crowd. "Black?" Moody grunted.

"Yes."

"What the hell's a Black doing here?" a stout man said.

"Oh, knock it off, Dearborn," Fabian said. "She's on our side."

"And how do you know that?" the man, Dearborn, challenged.

Moody grunted, "Wouldn't be the first spy I've seen. It's a wonder they haven't sent one before."

"I'm not a spy," Bellatrix muttered. This might have been a bad idea, which, come to think of it, should have been a given. It was Gideon's, after all.

"And, what, we're just supposed to accept your word for that?"

"You can accept my word for it," Fabian offered coolly.

"I do so swear it upon my life," Gideon declared. "I've know the beautiful, kind, wonderful Bellatrix Black since she was only a child, a mere slip of a thing."

"Her family's all Death Eaters!" Dearborn cried.

"My _family_ is Hufflepuff and only Hufflepuff. Every Hufflepuff I know opposes the Dark Lord. I've been disowned by the Blacks for some time," Bellatrix said. "Technically, I shouldn't even be using the name, but it's not like I have another one."

"You can use the name Prewett," Gideon offered. "Marry me?"

"No."

He fell to the ground, clutching her blue robes. "Oh, the cruelty! Surely, I shall not survive this sixteenth-"

"Seventeenth," Bellatrix corrected.

"…seventeenth rejection. Have you no pity for a dying old man?" Gideon cried, looking up at her with wide eyes.

She sighed. "You're only twenty-three, Gideon. Get up off the floor."

He bounced to his feet, smiling. "Okay! Does this mean you love me?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he swept to the front of the room. "Though such displays of young love are a comfort in these trying times, I'm afraid we have grave business to attend to."

"Yes, sir!" Gideon piped, dragging Bellatrix to sit in the front row.

"You're just going to let her stay?" Dearborn grumbled.

"I have no doubt that Miss Black will be an admirable addition to our ranks," Dumbledore said with a congenial smile. Most of the Order accepted Dumbledore's judgment unquestioningly, though Moody didn't stop watching her for the rest of the meeting. Or any of the meetings that followed.

_The first time Bellatrix fought Moody, he had two legs, two eyes, and a fairly normal face. By the ninth time, the auror was a canvas of scars – missing an eye and a leg. She'd have liked to take his other eye, but she supposed blowing off a chunk of his nose was good enough._

* * *

The Prewett brothers and Bellatrix gathered around Molly's hospital bed, eager to see the newest Weasley. With a tired, but nonetheless enormous, smile, she showed off her blue-wrapped bundle. Expecting soft sighs and cooing, Molly was less than pleased when her best friend fell into hysterical laughter upon seeing her newborn son.

"What's so funny?" she huffed. Twelve hours of labor had pretty much taken the humor out of her, at least for the night.

"He…he," – Bellatrix gasped for air – "looks like Arthur."

Molly peered down at the child, her face delighted. "Really? You think so?"

"I think he looks like a doxy," Gideon said.

Molly's glare, Fabian's elbow, and Bellatrix's snapped "Quiet, Giddy" all reached him in a single blast of disapproval.

He amended, "An incredibly attractive doxy, the likes of which have never been seen by mortal eyes. A king among doxies, if you will."

"We won't," Bellatrix said.

"Daily, I suffer this deep and unending abuse," he informed them. As he dabbed at imaginary tears, Fabian examined the little Weasley.

"You really think he looks like Arthur, Bells? 'Cause that's definitely the Prewett nose."

"And the Prewett's dashing good looks," Gideon added.

Molly smiled. "His facial shape is a little like Arthur's, and his ears, too. Also, he might not have much hair, but it's certainly redder than mine ever was."

Bellatrix valiantly fought back her snickers. "I was thinking more his red face."

Thoughtfully, the group turned towards the corner, where Arthur Weasley sat in a visitor's chair. Under their scrutiny, he quickly turned the shade of a tomato.

"She's right," Fabian said. "There's certainly a resemblance."

"Yes!" declared Gideon. "There's simply no denying it. Never, in the history of history, has a Prewett had a face that red. Surely, my darling baby sister's reasonably alright husband must carry extra veins in his forehead, to achieve such a shade. Indeed, those veins have clearly bred true into the precious face of young…"

"William," Molly supplied.

"William!" Gideon continued. "A name of kings, knights, and other things starting with 'k.' A fine name."

Bellatrix hummed. "It's a little long, though, for such a tiny kid."

Molly pointed out, "All of _your_ names are longer than that."

"Yeah, but people rarely call us by them, aside from Fabian," Bellatrix said.

"If they could come up with a better nickname than 'Fab' or 'Fob,' I would consider it," he grumbled.

Gideon's eyes lit up. "What about-"

"No."

"I didn't even finish!"

"It was an awful suggestion, right Bells?"

"Absolutely," she agreed, "and I'm not saying it's a bad name, Molly; I just think we need a nickname. Maybe Will."

Arthur looked thoughtful. "How about Bill?"

_Molly Weasley often wondered why giving her children traditional British names somehow made her the weird one._

* * *

**A/N: Again, thanks for reading. I'd like to thank Hpdwlotr24 in particular for being such a prolific reviewer! This was fairly fluffy, but, next chapter, it's time for the First Wizarding War.**


	8. In Which There is War

Ch. 8: In Which There Is War

Andromeda Lestrange did not believe in speaking during battle. In her opinion, it was a distraction and showed a lack of control.

Bellatrix disagreed.

"Is widdle Andy gonna cwy?" she crooned as the younger woman dodged her Bludgeoning Curse. Andromeda's only answer was an Avada Kedavra. Around them, Death Eaters and Order members dodged about the old manor's faded furniture. Soon, the aurors would arrive and the Death Eaters would flee.

Another curse flew at Bellatrix, shattering an accioed plate. She forced a giggle, eliciting a growl from Andromeda. "Oh, is she gonna point her itty-bitty wand at me. So scary!"

They exchanged more curses, all of questionable legality.

Bellatrix continued cheerfully, "Are you scared, Andy? Are you gonna wet yourself like you did every night till you turned six?"

The Sectumsempra missed its intended target. It still grazed Bellatrix's wand arm, however, cutting deeply and ruining her aim. She shrieked but kept moving. The only excuse for not moving during a battle is being dead, as her mother always said. Clutching her limp arm to her chest, Bellatrix threw herself behind a couch, and, with a shaky breath, apparated. It was a miracle she didn't splinch herself.

Bellatrix landed on her knees in the Potter home, her blood drenching the floorboards. She struggled to her feet, and staggered deeper into the current headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The pale face of Molly Weasley greeted her in the parlor.

"Bella, your arm…" Molly cried. "You should be in St. Mungo's."

Bellatrix shook her head. "I can wait. The arm's still attached, and I'm not bleeding that much."

Molly frowned, "It's still too much blood, and…oh, Merlin, is that bone?"

"I'll be fine," Bellatrix insisted, brushing off Molly's attempts to help her to the couch. She wasn't so much of an invalid that she couldn't walk ten feet before collapsing.

She acquiesced to the Blood Replenisher and pain reliever, but refused to accept Dreamless Sleep. After all, if things went badly, she might have to return to the battle.

"Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be watching Bill and Charlie?" Bellatrix asked.

"They'll be fine with Arthur, so long as he doesn't burn the house down again. I came to give the Order more medical potions and, when I heard about the attack, decided to stay for a little while and help," Molly said.

"You need to stop doing that."

"Doing what? Making sure my brothers and idiot best friend don't bleed to death because they've run out of Blood Replenishers?" she snapped.

"Helping," Bellatrix said. "It will only bring trouble for you. You already have two sons and another on the way. You shouldn't be involved."

Molly sniffed. "I'm already involved. I'm a Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs don't just stand around while their friends are getting hurt. It's not like I'm running into battle and screaming 'Shoot me!' like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Bella, I was there during the Diagon Alley attack last month. The way you taunt your sister and all the others, it's almost as if you _want_ them to kill you…You don't, right?" Molly nibbled her lip anxiously.

"Of course I don't! I just figure they're going to try to kill someone and, if it isn't me, then it's bound to be one of my friends. It might even be a Puff, and, if a few insults can send those spells towards me instead of a civilian or a new Order member or someone else who can't dodge and isn't as skilled at managing pain as I am, then all the better."

Molly smiled. "Puff."

"Always," Bellatrix said. "Also, I hope that, someday, Andy will become angry enough to make a stupid mistake and get captured…or, maybe, start shouting back. She's killed several of my friends. The least I can do is make sure she has a bad day."

_Bellatrix's baby talk saved dozens of Death Eater recruits from an early death. If there's one thing a Gryffindor can't resist, it's a challenge._

* * *

It's important to get out of the house, now and again, when caring for small children. Most women go to the spa, lunch, or out shopping for their dose of easy breathing and adult company. Molly Weasley preferred war meetings.

Bellatrix's voice was warm as she walked over, weaving between other Order members. "Molly! How are the kids?"

"A handful," she admitted, "and Gideon?"

Bellatrix smirked. "The same. What's going on?"

The brunette gestured towards a small crowd, off to the side. They were laughing, a sound which had grown increasingly rare as the war dragged on.

"New recruits." Molly's eyes were dark, half-hidden by her red bangs. Though new members were initiated a few times each year, the Order of the Phoenix was never a large group. The Death Eaters made sure of that.

"Who are they?"

"The Potters' son and his friends."

Bellatrix frowned. "Potter…that Fourth Year Ravenclaw that Bones dated?"

"No, that was his cousin," Molly said. "He's a few years younger."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Do you think they're any good at fighting?"

"Who cares if they're any good? They shouldn't be fighting, at all. They're _children_, Bella," the redhead said, voice wobbling. "They weren't even at school at the same time as us."

Bellatrix said, "That just means we're getting old. It's not like they're much younger than us, when we joined."

"Still…"

"Come on, let's go say hi. If they're really that young, then they ought to feel welcome, at least. You don't want to be the angry-faced old lady, who glares at everyone. Do you?" Bellatrix held out a hand, and, with a small smile, Molly followed her to the group. Taking a deep breath, the redhead mustered up a motherly smile.

"Hi, I'm Molly Weasley," she chirped.

A tall brunette grinned, gesturing towards the others who were still talking with Dorcas Meadows. "James Potter, good to meet you. This is my fiancée, Lily. My friends: Remus, Peter, and-"

"Sirius," Bellatrix breathed, recognizing the long, black hair and roguish grin.

Sirius looked up. "Huh?"

She threw herself at him, hugging tightly. Sirius gaped. "B-Bella? Aren't you dead?"

"Runaway," she said.

"Oh…Heh, me too."

"How'd that happen?" she asked.

"I'm a Gryffindor. Didn't you hear?"

She chuckled darkly. "I haven't spoken to the family in seven years. Who would have told me?"

"Right," he muttered. "You've definitely changed."

"Hm?"

"I can't imagine you hugging me, seven years ago."

"You can't be Molly's best friend for fourteen years without getting used to hugs. Also, you were really annoying, back then. You probably still are; I just don't care, right now."

Their bonding moment was interrupted very quickly. "Oh, the heartache, the excruciating pain, the deep, stabbing betrayal-"

Molly giggled. "Hi, Gideon."

"-returning from a long day's work only to find my beloved in the arms of another man. Truly, fate has chosen to back-hand me, razor blades strapped to each delicate knuckle."

Bellatrix sighed, stepping back. "Gideon, this is Sirius, my cousin."

"And her fiancé," Molly added, thoroughly enjoying the horror on Gideon's face.

Sirius blinked. "Huh?"

"Our mothers went through a weird phase, but that was _never_ official," Bellatrix said.

"It wouldn't be that odd, though. He is your first _and_ third cousin, after all."

Bellatrix shuddered. "Are you ever going to stop bringing that up?"

The redhead shrugged. "Probably not."

James tried to regain his position as the center of attention. He grabbed Bellatrix's hand, raising it to his lips. "Hello, I'm Sirius's best friend James. And you would be…?"

"Taken," Gideon said.

"As are you," Lily said, yanking him back.

"When is the wedding, dear?" Molly inquired politely, smiling at the younger redhead.

Lily smiled back. "August."

"Is this an army or a bloody sewing circle?" Moody grumbled, stomping past on a wooden leg. Molly winced. He definitely didn't have that at the last meeting she'd attended…

Quieting, they settled into their seats and their conversation quickly turned to the war. Words of hope, bravery and victory were thrown out, but, glancing around, the redhead noticed that there weren't any more seats filled than there had been a few months before. Suddenly, Molly wanted to go home.

_Staying home with your wand your pocket might not be the bravest thing, but, in Molly's opinion, family was always worth more than Gryffindor bravado._

* * *

Molly was going to make chicken for dinner, stuff it full of carrots and onions, and serve it with great globs of mashed potatoes. It would be drizzled in gravy, her mother's recipe, and, hopefully, she could convince Percy to eat it. He was such a picky child. For dessert, something sweet, maybe…

A hand squeezed her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. Her husband's, she recognized. She shouldn't have resented him for that, but reality wasn't a place worth being, on that dreary Tuesday. Not when her brothers' caskets lay ten feet ahead.

They'd had to take Bill out of school, for the day, which was probably for the best. He was so terribly distraught over his uncles' deaths, as was Charlie. Percy, Ron, and the twins were too young to truly understand, but, taking their cues from the older boys, remained gravely silent. Even baby Ginny barely whimpered.

On any other day, she would be immensely pleased, but, now, Molly couldn't feel much of anything.

"I need air," she murmured. "Can you…?"

Arthur kissed her forehead. "Of course."

She hurried away, collapsing against the wall as soon as she was out of sight. A mother should never break down in front of her children, in Molly's opinion, but privacy was hard to come by in a household of nine.

She wouldn't find it in that quiet hallway, either.

"Molly," Bellatrix said softly, sitting beside her. She didn't speak again or even look at her friend. They sat side-by-side, as Molly sobbed and Bellatrix stared dully at the ceiling. When Molly had cried herself out, she turned to the brunette.

"Why didn't you ever marry him?" Molly hadn't meant to ask that. It was horribly insensitive, but she didn't have the energy to protect Bellatrix's feelings, right now. She could barely deal with her own.

"He stopped asking," Bellatrix said. "I don't think he wanted me to be a widow."

The redhead watched her friend, pale and gaunt in black robes. "You still are, though."

"I know." They stayed there for some time, neither ready to face reality. Reality was full of death, pain, and too-quiet children. Better to dwell on the merits of serving bread pudding for dessert.

_The Death Eater's refusal to attack funerals would forever baffle Bellatrix Lestrange._

* * *

Bellatrix didn't dare fall asleep. It was Halloween night, after all, and Lord Voldemort had always possessed a fondness for the theatrical. At six AM, however, the brunette cursed her paranoia. There'd been no battle, at least not one that she'd been summoned to. Just as she contemplated crawling into bed for a couple hours' rest, her fireplace roared green. She crouched beside the flames, surprised to see her best friend's face. It was hard to tell, in the shifting flames, but she suspected Molly had been crying.

"Molly?" she asked. "Is everyone alright?"

Molly sniffled. "Y-yes. We're okay. We're…we're great. You-Know-Who is dead."

"Oh," she said. This should have been great news, and it was, really, but, if it had come even a month sooner, Gideon and Fabian Prewett would have survived.

Bellatrix asked. "How?"

"He killed the Potters, but, somehow, little Harry survived. They say You-Know-Who's own spell bounced back at him."

A small smile played at her lips. "Wow. Is Sirius alright?"

"He…"

The smile fell; her voice grew pleading. "Please don't tell me he's dead."

"He's not." That should have been a relief, but Molly wouldn't meet her eyes.

"What happened?" Bellatrix asked, her voice dull. More bad news. Wasn't that always how it went?

"I…I shouldn't even know this, but Arthur works at the Ministry. They say Sirius killed a dozen Muggles and Peter Pettigrew. They say he betrayed the Potters, betrayed all of us. He says that too."

"Oh…goodbye, Molly," she said softly, shutting the floo connection.

It had been nice, having a member of her family be related in blood as well as loyalty. But Sirius had always been a brilliant liar and a better prankster. It wasn't hard to trick them all, and it seemed his loyalty lied elsewhere. To keep that loyalty in spite of friendship and dozens of battles side-by-side with the Order was more than she could have ever managed. The Hufflepuff in her couldn't help but be impressed.

Across Britain, wizards and witches laughed, danced, and drank themselves silly. Stars rained down in a shower of light. Hundreds of owls departed to spread the good news.

Bellatrix Black dragged herself to bed.

_In a time when her colleagues escaped justice through bribery and lies, Bellatrix Lestrange was too loyal to say anything but the truth._

* * *

******Before the lynching, can I just say that I love Gideon? He's crazy fun to write (this particular archetype is now firmly in my repertoire for future works), but he's also something of a spotlight stealer. More importantly, ********t**his isn't a story about how much better things are just because Bellatrix is a Hufflepuff. P******eople are still going to die, and we're bound to like some of them. On that depressing note, remember to leave a review!**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: ****The next update will take a few extra days while I rework the story somewhat. Presuming things go as planned, there should be an extra chapter or two of material, but first I need to write, edit, scrap, rewrite, and edit again. I'll be back in no more than a week.**


	9. In Which There are Reunions

Ch. 9: In Which There are Reunions  


Bellatrix strode out of the Burrow's fireplace, swatting soot off her robes.

"Weasley!" she called, smirking when seven heads shot up from the table. A few years before, it would have been nine, but her eldest godsons had left home within a week of graduating. She certainly couldn't blame them. The Weasley household was complete madness, even on a quiet day.

"Bella!" Molly cried. "I wasn't expecting you until dinner."

"Well, you know how I am. Always early."

Molly smiled. "Six hours early?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "On a good day. Hi, Arthur. Kids."

Arthur smiled and said hello. Percy nodded sharply, busy with a book he'd smuggled to the table. Ron similarly nodded, though mostly because his mouth was bursting with food. Bellatrix supposed it was an improvement on his usual habit of talking through each mashed-up mouthful.

"Hi," Ginny muttered, sinking down slightly in her chair in the vain hope that no one would look at her.

"Hullo, Auntie Trixie," the twins said. Bellatrix had given up on telling them apart by the time they were three. All attempts at labeling them, both magically and mundanely, had proven fruitless before their ingenuity.

"Hullo twins," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Remember how I threatened to hex you if you kept calling me Trixie?"

"Yup!" one of them said.

"Good," she said. Bellatrix frowned at the last seat, where a dark-haired boy attempted to blend in with his mashed potatoes. "Who's the last one?"

Ron swallowed. "My friend Harry."

She frowned. "I didn't know you were having more guests."

"Harry's visit was somewhat sudden," Arthur said.

"But welcome!" Molly added, beaming at the boy. He mustered a small smile back.

"We brought him here in a flying car!" Ron said.

"Ah…" Bellatrix paused. After six years dating Gideon and twenty-odd years as the Weasleys' godmother, she'd learned that it was usually better not to ask. "Is he a Hufflepuff?"

"No, a Gryffindor, like me," Ron said. He puffed his chest out proudly, grinning.

"Pity," Bellatrix turned towards Molly. "I'm starting to think you're a secret Gryffindor."

Molly frowned. "Sorry?"

"Five Sortings, and, every single time, the boy went to Gryffindor."

Molly looked puzzled. "There've been six Sortings."

"I'm counting the twins as one," Bellatrix said. "Really, though, is their nursery a lion pit? With so many children, you'd think at least one would end up a badger."

"Every Weasley who's gone to Hogwarts has been a Gryffindor," Percy said in his all-knowing prefect tone.

Bellatrix snorted. "And every Black was a Slytherin, but we all saw how that turned out."

She turned towards Ginny, or, more accurately, Ginny's eyes and nose, since the rest of her had disappeared under the table. The girl had never seemed particularly shy before, but Bellatrix supposed she'd gone through odder phases, at that age.

"Ginny, you're a loyal girl, right? Hardworking?"

She bobbed her head. "Um, yeah."

"Good. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful Hufflepuff!"

"I don't know…"

The brunette waved off her protests, winking. "No getting out of it, now. You're our last hope, Ginny."

Admittedly, she was playing up her house loyalty for laughs. In later years, however, Bellatrix reflected that Hufflepuff would surely have noticed if one of their firsties was hiding the Dark Lord under her mattress.

_Molly Weasley may not have been able to protect her daughter, but she could certainly send a Howler to every Hogwarts employee who had so much as passed Ginny in the hall. Despite her house affiliations, Professor McGonagall soon learned to loathe the color red._

* * *

Bellatrix Black had done fairly well for herself, under the circumstances. She was alive and free, which was more than she could say for most of her family. Few people were willing to hire her, but Madam Malkin's son had been a Hufflepuff in the year below her, so she'd gotten a job. It may not have been very exciting, but it was peaceful.

Bellatrix had stopped dating after Gideon's death, but she had enough friends to quell her loneliness. After all, she was always welcome among the Weasley clan for a meal or a night. She had similar arrangements with other Order Members, and some old Hufflepuff classmate would hold a big reunion each year. That didn't even touch upon all the people she'd reconnected with while working at Madam Malkin's…

"Cissy!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Back for another pair of dress robes?"

"Oh, no. I need a whole new wardrobe," the blonde said, gliding into the store with the air of someone who could buy the block without even visiting her vault.

"A whole new…what did you do?"

"No need to be so accusatory, Bella dear. You see, Lucius was being awfully stubborn about me buying no more dress robes – something about gossiping with blood traitors – and you know how terribly upset arguing makes me, so I might have _accidentally _set fire to my entire wardrobe. Obviously, he couldn't leave me without clothes, so I rushed over here right away. I don't have the patience to replace it all at once, though, so I imagine I'll be over here often, these next few years."

Bellatrix smirked. "I'm glad to hear that. It seems I've barely seen you since you filled your third closet. And I haven't seen Draco in almost a year."

Narcissa continued, "Oh, but I haven't even told you the worst part! You see, my little temper tantrum wasn't restrained to my wardrobe. I also set fire to the entire East Wing – which was dreadfully in need of a good remodel, I might add – and Draco's summer wardrobe. I'll have to take him here over the Christmas holidays. Now, if you finished your shift just as we were leaving, it would be rude of us not to accept an offered meal."

"How about chicken?"

"Draco abhors chicken. Veal would be much better. Hypothetically, of course."

"Of course," Bellatrix agreed regally.

They broke out into laughter. "If this is what you do to visit little old me, I can't even imagine what you'd do to Lucius if he ever cheated on you."

Narcissa's voice was dreamy. "The first thing I'd cut off would be his hair…"

Bellatrix shook her head in amusement, swished her wand to double check Narcissa's measurements, and began assembling a deep blue robe with gold trim. They were quiet for a while as Bellatrix worked. Occasionally, Narcissa would make a snipping motion with her fingers, eliciting a snort from her older sister. After a time, Bellatrix broke the silence.

"You haven't heard from _him_, have you?"

Narcissa sighed heavily. "No and neither has Lucius. If any of the old guard has, they haven't spoken about it. Wherever Sirius has gone, I doubt it's in England."

Sirius Black was the reason Bellatrix would never truly be accepted by the Light. After all, only an idiot would trust a woman whose every relative was a Death Eater and whose cousin was the most infamous traitor of the war. Sirius's betrayal had broken her heart, almost as thoroughly as the Prewetts' deaths, because she suspected that, to him, it was just another brilliant prank.

Now, he was a convict – on the run and probably insane.

Bellatrix said, "I'm not so sure. You know Sirius. He's always in the thick of things. I doubt he'd be sensible enough to flee abroad."

Narcissa nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps."

The blonde shook herself from her reverie, gesturing toward the neat stack of clothes. "Are you quite finished with my purchases?"

"Yes. I suppose I'll see you in a few weeks. Try not to set anything else on fire, until then."

Narcissa smiled. "I'll do what I can, but some accidents are tragically unavoidable."

Laughter in her voice, Bellatrix said, "Goodbye, Cissy."

"Goodbye, Bella," she said somberly, "and, until this mess with Sirius is straightened out, lock your doors."

_The only person in the history of Azkaban to escape without outside assistance was a Black. Bellatrix would have been inordinately proud of this had said Black not been a blood traitor._

* * *

Bellatrix tucked a note in her pocket as the hulking, hideous form of her uncle's old home flickered into view. She strode forward, and, after a brief hesitation, knocked. Due to the Fidelius Charm, no one outside of the Order should even be able to see the house, let alone enter it, but surprising a room full of veterans could only end badly.

The door opened, revealing the ragged, too-thin face of Sirius Black. A dozen emotions flashed through Bellatrix, in that instant: relief, happiness, sadness...The strongest, however, was anger. The Blacks were well known for their icy, long-lasting rage, culminating in brutal and untraceable revenge. Bellatrix had never been a typical Black.

"Sirius, you vile, spineless idiot!" she hissed.

Sirius backed away, smiling weakly. "What, no hugs?"

"No! You lost your right to hugs when you abandoned your family." She drew her wand, sneering.

"I was arrested," he said.

"And you didn't even try to fight the charges! For Circe's sake, even Malfoy got off." Bellatrix threw a Bat-Bogey hex, which he avoided with a yelp.

"I was upset about James and Lily's deaths; I couldn't even think! Besides, it's not like I had any money to bribe them with."

"I don't care," Bellatrix said coldly. "I don't care how upset you were. We all lost people. You could have fought it. You could have told someone that you weren't the traitor everyone said you were, that you actually cared about your family. That you had a cousin and friends and a godson-"

"My godson!" Sirius cried, ducking behind the chair of a surprised Harry. "He's right here by the way. Great kid. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, you know. Harry, Bella. Bella-"

"We've met," she said, forcing her voice into slightly more human, rather than serpentine range. "Good seeing you again, Harry."

"Yeah, um, are you two…" he trailed off, looking between his godfather and the scowling witch brandishing her wand at him.

"Cousins," she growled.

"Oh."

Bellatrix cleared her throat. "You brought back the Diggory boy's body, right?"

He nodded, though his head remained somewhat downcast afterward.

"On behalf of Hufflepuff, thank you," she said stiffly.

"You're welcome?" he said. More of a question than a statement, she noted.

Sirius had gained the courage to poke his head out from behind the couch. Bellatrix glared. "And don't think I've forgotten about you. This is entirely your fault."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. If you'd proven your innocence sooner, this whole bloody fiasco could have been avoided, or delayed, at least. That rat of yours is the one who found You-Know-Who, brought him back to life, and murdered the Hufflepuff champion," – her voice grew crueler – "Do you know how hard it is for a Puff to be taken seriously? Just once, a Hufflepuff was undeniably better than his classmates and your idiotic friend murdered him."

"He is NOT my friend!" Sirius roared.

"Then you shouldn't have helped him get away for fourteen years. We all thought you'd betrayed us. All of us! All because you couldn't open your mouth and tell them that not every Black is an evil, traitorous, Muggle-hating-"

"Filthy mudbloods!" A pair of curtains flung open, revealing the twisted face of Walburga Black.

Redirecting her rage, Bellatrix screeched, "Shut up, you incestuous bitch!"

Molly had a point. That was a surprisingly fun insult. It took a moment for her aunt to recognize the livid woman. "Bellatrix, you ungrateful blood traitor, you should have been drowned at birth. I always knew you were a hideous, scraggly, weak…"

As Bellatrix watched the snarling woman, a furious calm fell over her. It was far easier to compartmentalize her anger when it was leveled at someone outside of her family and friends. "If you don't shut up, I will _destroy_ that portrait."

"I'd like to see you try you disgusting little trollop. I'm immune to magic," she sneered.

"I'll have to destroy you the Muggle way, then," Bellatrix said.

"No pathetic, filthy Muggles could ever possibly-"

"Scissors," Bellatrix said. "I'll cut you into so many pieces even you wouldn't recognize that ugly face of yours, and, if that doesn't work, I'll take down the whole wall. Possibly even the whole house."

Walburga hesitated. "You wouldn't."

"I am having a _very _bad day," she said softly.

The curtains flew closed. From that day forward, Walburga Black contented herself with glaring and sneering, at least when her oldest niece came around. Sirius's later entreaties for her to "do that to Kreacher" were quietly ignored.

She did forgive him, eventually, deciding that unbelievable idiocy should be treated with slightly less contempt than intentional malice. Nevertheless, for the next several months, Sirius often woke up with bats fluttering out of his nose, his eyes on entirely the wrong part of his anatomy, and a booby-trapped room.

_Bellatrix would never understand how marriage to a wealthy Pureblood shoved her below a runaway blood traitor in terms of inheritance. For the first time in her life, she hated tradition._

* * *

**In case of confusion: Scenes one and three take place during the summers of Harry's Second and Fifth Years, and scene two is sometime during the winter of his Third.**

**Good news: I wrote seven additional scenes which are either completely new or so different as to be unrecognizable. These should carry us through Chapters 10 and 11. It also covers most of Chapter 12. Updates will therefore return to their previous rapid-fire pace.  
**

**Bad news: I've still got one more scene to go, and it's driving me mad. If I'm still coming up empty after next chapter, I'll throw out a request for suggestions. **

**Until then, feel free to share your thoughts/ideas/opinions/etc in the reviews. I'm always grateful, and you might even affect the story!**


	10. In Which There is Fighting

Ch. 10: In Which There is Fighting

"I hear she's married to Sirius Black."

"No, no, no!" a freckly Hufflepuff said. "That isn't it at all. Her husband was killed, and she's renounced all love, since then."

"That's so romantic!" a puffy-lipped Gryffindor girl gushed.

The freckled girl continued, "Oh, I bet she has a death wish, too, so she can be with her love. That's why she took the job!"

"Well, _I_ read that she killed a dozen Death Eaters, during the war," another Gryffindor said self-importantly.

A Hufflepuff, Cormac McLaggen's younger brother, laughed. "Where'd you read that, the Quibbler?"

"Shut up, McLaggen, There's nothing wrong with the Quibbler," Ginny said.

He smirked. "Not for fiction, no, but it's all rubbish. Last week, they printed an article saying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is alive."

"But he is alive. Harry said so," Colin Creevey said.

"Who cares what Harry Potter says? He's mad as a hatter," McLaggen said.

Ginny shot up from her seat. "You take that back!"

"Oh, just because you _love_ him means we should all feed his delusions, then? If we have to be nice to all the guys you put out for, then we'll have world peace by lunch," he purred.

The girl's face grew hot as a teakettle as she grabbed her wand. "You bastard."

"Oh, what are you going to do? Drag me in a broom closet and – "

McLaggen's lips knitted together so that he couldn't speak, and the quarreling students' wands flew from their hands to hover in midair.

"_I've_ heard that the new professor knows the disillusionment charm," Bellatrix Black said, as she faded into view.

Ginny gulped. "Aunty Bella."

"Professor Black," she corrected, "and I'm not going to favor you just because we're family. Five points from Gryffindor for drawing your wand first, and fifteen points from Ravenclaw for insulting two fellow students. I'm very disappointed in both of you, especially you, Mr. McLaggen. When I was going to school, badgers had respect for their fellow students."

A small grunt of protest pushed through the boy's melded-shut lips, but Bellatrix ignored him as she glided to the front of the room. "Now, class, I sewed McLaggen's mouth shut because he annoyed me. What uses could an enemy have for that same spell?"

"A distraction," the freckled Hufflepuff immediately said.

"To stop them from casting spells," Colin added.

"And just to stop them from talking," Ginny grumbled.

At Bellatrix's quirked eyebrow, the redhead continued, "That way, they can't spread information, give orders…" – she smirked – "or annoy you."

"Very good," Bellatrix said.

"Professor, will you teach us that spell?" the freckled girl asked, clasping her hands tightly against her chest.

"And the disillusionment spell, too!" the puffy-lipped Gryffindor squealed.

"Next week," Bellatrix said, drawing her wand. "First, we need the basics. Lesson one…"

A wild gleam entered Bellatrix's eyes, "Dodging."

_Bellatrix never bothered with the_ _Mouth Knitting spell. Why, in Merlin's name, would she ever want to _stop_ her enemies from screaming? _

* * *

Bellatrix stalked out of the DADA classroom, lest she incinerate the tower of essays swaying atop her desk. She'd already given in to that temptation once with the Daily Prophet, frustrated that Fudge's platform solely consisted of blaming Dumbledore. The students hadn't stopped talking about it for a week, and Bellatrix suspected she'd gained a few new nicknames from the incident.

A loud crash caused her to pause at the nearest corner. Ever since the twins decided to have a "helpful" chat with Peeves, the poltergeist had declared her his new favorite target. Every rustle was suspicious, now, and she cautiously poked her head around the corner.

"Blood traitor!"

Not Peeves, then. Bellatrix scowled and stalked forward. A small crowd gathered around Ron and Draco Malfoy as they rolled around on the hallway. After a moment, Ron got the upper hand, pinned the blond to the floor, and landed a punch.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Bellatrix snapped, dragging him up by his robe.

"Oh, professor," Draco said. "Thank Merlin you arrived. He just went crazy and started attacking me."

Bellatrix smirked, shaking her head. "You remind me of your father at your age."

Even sprawled against the stone floor, his hair mussed and a scrape trickling blood down his face, Draco was still very much capable of preening. "Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment" – she turned to the still-suspended redhead – "Ron, you're usually honest. Care to tell me what happened?"

"He insulted Mum," Ron said.

"He called Father a Death Eater," Draco snapped.

"He is a Death Eater!"

"And your mother is an impoverished cow."

"Have you even met his mother?" Bellatrix asked.

"No, but Father says –"

Bellatrix took a deep breath, reminding herself that children were not papers and setting them on fire would do no good. The gawkers had begun whispering. "To my office. Now."

She led them the short distance through the classroom and into her office, pausing only slightly at the doorway to check for poltergeists. The two boys sat in chairs specifically charmed to be uncomfortable, and she stared them down across the desk.

"You need to stop this" – Bellatrix waved her hand – "whatever this is. It reflects poorly on me as your godmother."

Draco laughed, getting up on one elbow. "Yeah, Weasley. You'd better stop provoking me."

"You too," she said.

"What? You aren't my godmother."

"I went through the whole bloody ceremony. Who else would it be?" Bellatrix snapped.

Draco said, "Father said it was Mrs. Parkinson."

"It's hardly my fault your mother is a liar, and your father never notices," she said stiffly. "Why are you two fighting?"

"I already told you," Ron said.

"Not this time. Why are you fighting _constantly_?" Bellatrix asked.

Ron shrugged. "He's a slimy, Slytherin git."

"Ron – "

"I'm just being honest," he grumbled.

Bellatrix turned to Draco, raising an eyebrow.

The blond said, "They're blood traitors."

"So am I," she said levelly.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, but that's different."

"I celebrate Christmas with the Weasleys," Bellatrix said. "Just how different could I be?"

"You're a Black" – Draco wrinkled his nose – "and they're a bunch of poor, badly bred _Weasleys._ Everyone knows their father has a Muggle fetish."

"Draco, I am trying very hard here to give you the benefit of the doubt here because, quite frankly, you're the closest I'm getting to a Hufflepuff godchild, but you're making it very difficult not to hex you."

"I am _not_ a Hufflepuff," Draco said.

"I'm way more Hufflepuff than he is," Ron chimed in.

Bellatrix turned first to the blond and then to the redhead. "Yes, you are, and, no, you aren't. I've graded your essays, Ron, and, unless you have a phobia of books that you haven't mentioned, you're hardly hard-working. And your mother told me about you leaving your friends, last year."

"But I got over that, after a while," Ron said.

"Which makes you a typical Gryffindor," she snorted. "Draco, on the other hand, is more than a bit obsessive with schoolwork, constantly practices seeking on that broom of his, and is very loyal to family."

When the blond began to preen again, she continued. "He also has an idiotic level of trust in his father, is incapable of making friends with anyone outside of his group, and generally conducts himself like a fool. He's the stereotypical Puff."

Draco glared.

Bellatrix said, "Of course, if he paid more attention, he would realize that his family is far larger than he originally thought."

Identical looks of confusion crossed the two boys' faces. She smirked. "As my godchildren, you're practically brothers."

"I am not related to a Weasley!" Draco exclaimed.

"But he's a Malfoy!" Ron said. They turned towards each other, disturbed by their simultaneous complaint.

Bellatrix chuckled. "Yes, funny how that works out, isn't it? But you're still family."

Afterwards, the two boys set about avoiding each other like the plague. That was the best outcome, in Bellatrix's opinion, since it also kept Draco away from Harry Potter – deterring the second most explosive pair in Hogwarts. The next few months were almost peaceful.

_Bellatrix Lestrange often visited her sister and infant nephew. While Bellatrix considered not hexing the child a great accomplishment and her baby talk never truly lost its predatory edge, she must have loved Draco at least a little. Why else would she have emerged from Azkaban without even knowing his name?_

* * *

"You received my note about the time of your observation?" Madam Umbridge asked, standing primly at the front of the classroom.

"Yes," Bellatrix said sourly, "how _wonderful_ that the Minister is taking such a personal interest in our school."

Umbridge hummed, already scribbling something down on her clipboard. "Yes. Yes, it truly is. Your students are very quiet, aren't they?"

Bellatrix glanced over her Fifth Year class. "Yes."

"They weren't nearly so quiet in their last class. Why _is _that?"

"They respect me," she said coolly.

"Really? Because we received a complaint that you were hexing students."

"Only volunteers for class demonstrations, and nothing harmful," Bellatrix said.

"The complaint said that you did so because the student" – Umbridge cleared her throat – "annoyed you."

"Annoying me is a very easy way to become a volunteer," Bellatrix said, then turned her attention to the class. "Now, today, we're going to be learning about the Finger-Removing Jinx."

A soft "ooh" came from the students.

Bellatrix laughed. "Now, the incantation is –"

"Hem-hem. If you'll excuse me. Don't you think that's a bit violent to teach our children? I couldn't possibly imagine the use of it."

"Students, please inform our woefully undereducated guest of the spell's possible usage."

Hermione Granger's hand shot up. "Historically, it was a punishment for thievery. Some witches also used to retaliate against cheating husbands, such as in the case of Gunhilda Kneen."

"Yes, well, those were far more savage times…" Umbridge said.

"It can also make people drop things," Dean said. "Like wands."

"Why would you _ever_ need to –"

"Or it can stop them from strangling you," Ron said.

Umbridge said, "Strangling!"

"Professor Quirrel tried to strangle me, once," Harry said.

"This is ridiculous!" cried Umbridge. "You make it sound like these children are going to war when Britain is _perfectly safe_."

"Tell that to Cedric Diggory," Harry said.

"Or Bertha Jorkins," Hermione added.

"Those deaths were accidental," Umbridge said.

"The Killing Curse is never accidental," Harry growled.

Umbridge pursed her lips, turning away from the students. "Professor Black, this is utterly unacceptable. How could you even think to allow this sort of talk in your classroom?"

Bellatrix caressed her wand. "Madam, you are growing perilously close to annoying me. These are dangerous times, and I am ensuring that my students can defend themselves, if necessary."

"What sort of horrible ideas are Dumbledore putting in your head? It was bad enough when he started supporting half-breeds and when he had the gall to interfere with the aurors during the first war, but to invent another war using an unbalanced student is simply –"

"Right, that's it. You're volunteered," Bellatrix snapped, drawing her wand. It might not have been a smart move, considering her prompt unemployment, but it was certainly satisfying. Bellatrix often insisted that Umbridge's outraged shrieks could fuel a patronus.

_Sometimes, the kindest thing a family member can do for another is to teach them how to kill so well that they will always be safe. Narcissa seemed rather unsettled by their bonding activity, however. Perhaps Bellatrix shouldn't have brought live targets._

* * *

Ron, Ginny, and their friends had found trouble and followed it all the way to London, deep into the bowels of the Ministry. When Bellatrix and the other Order members arrived, delayed by anti-apparition wards and recently awakened security guards, the Department of Mysteries was in chaos. Death Eaters were everywhere, outnumbering the teenagers two to one. Bellatrix immediately sought out her godchildren. Ron had deep welts cutting into his body, and Ginny was on the floor, injured but still casting.

She started towards the fallen redhead, frowning as her cousin darted past. Sirius wasn't supposed to be in public, let alone in the middle of the bloody Ministry. She growled, "Sirius, you idiot! I'm going to kill you when we get back."

"Not if you can't catch me!" he laughed, disappearing into the melee.

Bellatrix soon found herself distracted by another family member. It was easy enough to fall back into old habits, especially when all the same faces were there.

"Oh, _Aaaandy,_" she called, smirking as the brunette stiffened.

Bellatrix said, "Itty-bitty, ickle sister, aren't you going to say hi?"

"Avada Kedavra," Andromeda snarled. The brunette jumped aside, watching the green whoosh past and splash against the walls.

"Well, that wasn't very nice," Bellatrix crooned. "Sometimes, I think you don't even want to see me."

Andromeda viciously slashed her wand. "Avada Kedavra."

"Really, Andy, don't you know any other spells? But don't worry; I'll teach you."

Bellatrix threw a fireball forward, pouting when it dissipated on her sister's shield. "Did you finally lose your baby fat? No more chubby cheeks for pwetty widdle Andy? Guess those dementors suck the pounds right off!"

Tormenting Andromeda was oddly therapeutic. She purred, "Really, sweetie, can't you do any better than – "

Bellatrix should have raised a shield, but months of working with undertrained teenagers had left her cocky. Distracted by her own taunting, a frantic jump to avoid Andy's latest spell only substituted her thighs for her stomach. The blue spell shimmered around her legs, and then oozed inside. They tingled as she ducked around Andy's next attack. A moment later, a great force shoved outwards, and Bellatrix fell screaming to the ground.

One of her legs was several inches farther away than it should have been, its top ragged and bloody, the bone splintered where it had exploded. A few scraps of flesh decorated the space in between her leg and torn-open hip. The other leg, while still attached, was arguably worse off. Hunks of thigh had flown across the room, leaving the bone mostly bare.

Anti-apparition wards were up, she knew, and she had no portkeys. Her best bet of survival was to crawl into a corner and hide, hoping the battle ended before she bled out. Bellatrix clawed at the floor, dragging herself forward with only her arms. Andromeda hadn't forgotten her, though. The brunette strolled forward, face grim.

"Expelliarmus," she said softly.

Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand and into Andromeda's, sending her skidding against the floor. Her bare bone grated on the tile, and her other leg was left behind.

Andromeda paled slightly, but her voice remained steady. "The Killing Curse would have been kinder. Avada –"

"Stupefy!"

Andromeda cut her spell short to throw up a shield. Sirius raced forward, standing between Bellatrix and her sister. He grinned wolfishly down at Bellatrix. "Still gonna kill me?"

She never got the chance to respond. A jet of red light hit him, and Sirius Black flew backwards, over his injured cousin, past startled duelers, and into the Veil of Death. His godson tried to run after the man, but Bellatrix couldn't even get up off the floor. She could only watch as yet another member of her family disappeared. When she turned dull, empty eyes back to where her own death should have been waiting, they lit slightly with surprise.

Andromeda was gone.

_Bellatrix was really very merciful towards the Longbottoms. After all, she could have started her interrogation with little Neville._

* * *

**A/N: This is all new content, and the story is now officially 100% complete. What do you guys think about the characterization as we enter the canon timeline? Are my bits of gore mildly sickening, ridiculous, or bland? Am I slipping? Perhaps you could let me know...in a review?  
**


	11. In Which Independence is Established

Ch. 11: In Which Independence is Established

Bellatrix sat upon the dusty floorboards of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, her legs pulled close to her side. One was wooden, made of two long rods with a ball connecting them and a clunky, round base where her foot had once been. The other lay pale and hairless, its sensitive flesh aching where it pressed against the floor.

Losing a leg had been easier than she'd expected. The wood was enchanted, and, after a few very frustrating months, it responded as easily as before the injury. If anything, it had a greater range of motion, since she didn't have to worry about hurting it.

Most of her frustration stemmed from keeping the other leg. Of course, her not-quite-joking suggestions for the healers to cut them both off and give her a matching set had not gone over terribly well, and Molly's reaction had encouraged her to back down.

The brunette leaned forward, ignoring her leg's complaints, to stare at the tapestry draped across the wall. Her hand hovered over a name near its bottom. Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she glanced at Corvus Black's portrait, where Walburga had pushed inside. Corvus grumbled in protest, attempting to elbow his niece back out of the frame.

Walburga sneered. "_She_ is downstairs."

"Molly?" Bellatrix asked.

Walburga looked offended. "I have no intention of learning the whor…_her_ name."

"Would you mind telling her I'm upstairs?"

Walburga glared. Bellatrix laughed. "No, of course not. Pardon me for asking. MOLLY, COME ON UP, AND AVOID THE FOURTH STEP!"

"Couldn't even be bothered to use a Sonorous," Walburga said, "had to shout like a commoner."

"You know I've had trouble with magic ever since I got my new wand," Bellatrix grumbled.

She took a moment to stroke her new beech and unicorn hair wand, scowling as it bucked under her touch. It was the only one Ollivander would sell her, insisting that it was "Just what she needed."

Of course, an untrustworthy wand with a hatred of combat spells was _perfect _for war. Bellatrix shoved the wand back into her pocket. She desperately missed her walnut, which was probably still sitting in her sister's pocket. Or, knowing Andromeda, snapped, burned, and buried under six feet of corpses.

"And since when are you against shouting?" Corvus said.

The hideous woman glared at her ancestor. He yelped, and Walburga haughtily left the portrait. Corvus said, "She kicked me in the shin."

Bellatrix looked at the man, who was painted in brilliant hues from the waist up. "You don't _have_ a shin."

"I have more shins than you do," he huffed, waving at her wooden leg, and stalked out of frame.

"Touchy," she muttered.

"Who's touchy?" Molly asked, bustling into the room.

"One of the portraits," Bellatrix said, tapping his name on the tapestry.

"Oh," Molly said. "What are you doing up here, anyway? It's so empty. There aren't even any chairs; that can't possibly be good for your leg."

"I'm fine. I was just looking at the family tree, the one Sirius used to complain about all the time. See, this soot patch is him, and this one is me. My sisters are here, of course, and cousin Regulus."

Bellatrix traced the line between herself and her sisters, and then jumped across the page to Regulus and Sirius's blasted off name. Trailing upward, she rested on the name Arcturus.

"This," Bellatrix said, "is my Great Uncle Rus, head of the family for about forty years. He's the only reason I inherited this place."

Molly twisted her lips thoughtfully. "But I thought you got it from Sirius."

"No, the family has been very finicky about proper inheritance ever since one of our ancestors declared his children idiots and tried to leave the fortune to a horse."

Molly laughed. "A horse?"

"A fine stallion" – she smirked – "We don't use wills. It's all about whoever has the closest blood tie, is still recognized as a Black, and hasn't been married into another line. The rest of the family wanted to disown us, but Arcturus never did. I'd like to think it was some great gesture on his part, but, honestly, he was always a little senile. Now, here are his children – Sirius's father Orion, and your mother."

Molly blinked. "Sorry?"

"We're second cousins," Bellatrix said. "You didn't know?"

"What, no!" Molly narrowed her eyes and, in the no-nonsense tone honed by years of telling off Fred and George, said, "You're joking."

"No, it's right here on the family tree. Lucretia Black, married to Ignatius Prewett."

"So, all those times that I mentioned incest…"

"I assumed you were poking fun at me and Gideon."

"Oh," Molly said, "well, I guess that means we really are family."

Bellatrix laughed. "I suppose we are. How exactly did you miss your mother's maiden name, all these years, anyway?"

Molly shrugged. "She never talked about it. Although she was always so sweet to you that maybe I should have guessed. You'd think she'd have said something, though. I mean, Gideon proposed to you plenty of times when she was in the room."

Bellatrix said, "It's not that big of a deal, Molls. We were only second cousins, after all."

The brunette moved to get up, but her injured leg flared with pain and the wooden one buckled slightly as her whole weight fell on it. The brunette hissed.

Molly hurried over, offering a hand. "Oh, Bella, you shouldn't be living alone right now. If you can't even get up –"

"Kreacher helps," Bellatrix said. She quickly dropped Molly's hand upon standing.

"He hates you," Molly said.

Bellatrix shook her head, leading the way down the hall. "More like dislike, and he's calmed down somewhat since Walburga accepted me. He's a perfectly adequate house elf."

"Still, you should be around family. We'd love to have you, really," Molly insisted, not for the first time that year…or month…or week, for that matter. Bellatrix sometimes wondered if stubbornness was just another unspoken prerequisite to joining Hufflepuff.

"That's very nice," she snapped, "but I'm not leaving my house."

"It's just not healthy, though. It's such a dreary, dangerous place, and the only company you have are portraits and that terrible house elf."

"And the Order members," Bellatrix said. She entered the dining room, weaving around a pile of junk which possessed at least one pair of eyes, and settled at the head of the table.

"It would be better if you came to the Burrow," Molly said, her lip set stubbornly.

"I'm not moving, Molly."

"You didn't mind moving from your flat to here."

"That was different. This is the family home, it was Sirius's, and now it's mine. I'm not a guest, here. I'm the mistress, and I like the feeling. I know it was touch and go for a while there, but I really am alright on my own. Besides, I caught Mundungus rifling through the cabinets, last week, and I refuse to leave him here unsupervised."

Molly pouted. "If you're sure."

Bellatrix nodded. "I really am."

She cut short any of Molly's further objections with a soft, "Kreacher."

The house elf popped in. His tone begrudging, he asked, "What is mistress wanting?"

"Tea" – she glanced at Molly – "and bring a plate of cookies. Chocolate chip."

Watching the redhead's face light up, Bellatrix smiled. She wasn't sure how much of Molly's insistence was her usual over-protectiveness, wartime stress, or unhappiness with the unnerving quiet of her nearly-empty nest, but she seemed to have accepted Bellatrix's decision, at least until the next visit. Besides, the dessert had sweetened her refusal, somewhat.

_The feud between Molly Weasley and Kreacher became legendary among the Order. He would never forgive her for invading his kitchen, and she would never forgive him for stealing every knife she found, brought, or conjured. The discovery of Kreacher's knife stash, some years later, spawned a whole new legend._

* * *

"Do you really think that'll work?" Bellatrix asked.

Molly sniffed, not looking up from the salad she was preparing. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Bellatrix sighed, picking up a knife to chop the cucumbers. "Keeping Ron and his friends apart. You don't really think that will stop them?"

"Why not?" she challenged.

Bellatrix laughed. "They're Gryffindors. If you wanted a child who'd stay home and tend the fire…"

"I should have had a Hufflepuff. Yes, yes, I know," Molly muttered.

"It's just how they're built."

"Arthur isn't like that…aside from his occasional accident with all that Muggle nonsense. He doesn't look for danger the way they do."

"He's more sensible," the brunette agreed, "but he hasn't faced the same things your kids have. Britain needs them."

"_I_ need them." Molly shredded the lettuce a bit more forcefully than necessary. "They're just children…"

Bellatrix spoke softly. "They're of age. How old is old enough, do you think, to face life-threatening situations? To kill? How old, Molly? Sirius and his friends were about Ron's age. I was nineteen. Gideon and Fabian weren't much older."

"I don't know," Molly sniffled. "They shouldn't have to. It isn't right."

"But they're still going to."

"Because they're Gryffindors…" Molly sighed.

Bellatrix smiled, wrapping an arm around her friend's shoulders. "Also because they're stubborn, determined and _very_ loyal…They would have made great Puffs."

_Molly didn't really think her meddling would make her children (blood and otherwise) change their minds, but what sort of mother would she be if she didn't even try?_

* * *

Bellatrix hadn't fought a proper battle in over a year. Dumbledore had refused to send an injured woman on missions, and the Order had gone into chaos after his death. As the war heated up, Bellatrix had grown tired of limping around the house and feeling sorry of herself.

First, Bill's wedding had emerged to break up the monotony. They'd spent weeks preparing, and it was impossible to be bored at the Burrow. The reception had ended with a Death Eater attack, yet – after some threats and demands as to the whereabouts of Harry Potter – they'd left without casting a single spell.

Bellatrix had to admit that it was probably for the best. Her wand still trembled every time she pointed it at someone, and the evening was tainted enough without another person being maimed or killed.

Afterwards, Bellatrix flooed home. She didn't care that her black dress was coated in soot as she fell to bed, only stirring when someone opened the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Though it was still under the Fidelius, every member of the Order could share the secret, including the traitorous Severus Snape.

Bellatrix's heart beat wildly as she crept down the stairs, her new wand in hand. She followed the sound of conversation into the hall, sizing up the three shadowy figures arguing by the door.

In the first war, the inhabitants of targeted houses had rarely survived the night, and Bellatrix was badly outnumbered. Still, she couldn't run. Apparition was easy to follow, presuming they hadn't already placed anti-apparition wards, and she'd so far been unable to do so without losing her wooden leg. Also, the only fireplace connected to the floo network was across the house. Bellatrix would have to go right past them to reach it.

A silent breath steeled her, and Bellatrix snapped off an Entrail-Expelling Curse at the tallest figure. Her wand let out sparks, instead.

The shadows whirled around, and one of them cried, "Aunt Bella!?"

She laughed a touch hysterically as the sparks revealed the bedraggled forms of her godson and his two friends. "Oh, just you three."

"What are you doing here?" Ron blurted out.

"I live here," Bellatrix said.

"But Mum said you were moving to the Burrow, for a while."

Bellatrix huffed. "Your mother sometimes forgets that she isn't the only person with opinions. I made it very clear that I would only be staying for two weeks."

"What happened at the wedding?" Harry asked. "Is everyone alright?"

"The guests are shaken, but fine. A good night's sleep should do them wonders," she said, looking pointedly at the stairs.

Ron blushed, the distinct hue of his face visible even in the dim light. He said, "Yeah, sorry about waking you up."

Bellatrix shook her head. "It's fine. Knock next time, though; I could have taken your head off. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Hermione said, "We were hoping to hide here, for a while, if that's alright with you, professor."

"It's more than alright," Bellatrix said. "Kreacher!"

The sullen house elf popped into the hallway. "Yes, blood traitor mistress?"

"Prepare three bedrooms for my guests."

Kreacher slumped, his nose twisted in disgust. "A Mudblood sleeping under Mistress's roof, in the beds Kreacher just cleaned…"

Bellatrix sighed. "Kreacher, what have I told you about insulting guests when they're in earshot?"

Looking pained, Kreacher spat, "Kreacher is saying sorry."

The elf quickly popped away. While Hermione looked on with disapproval, Ron laughed. "Yeah, you better be…Wait, what do you mean 'when we're in earshot?'"

Bellatrix smirked. "I have to give the poor thing _something_ to live for."

_The Lestrange house elves were quickly trained not to punish themselves, as Bellatrix was quite happy to do so for them._

* * *

**A/N: A closer look at the Black family tree reveals that they're related to a disturbingly large number of characters, including the Prewetts. There was no way I could just ignore that, so a new scene was born. One more chapter to go. Remember to review!**


	12. In Which Family Gathers

Ch. 12: In Which Family Gathers  


In late March of 1997, Bellatrix received a basket and a letter from a rather constipated-looking, golden eagle.

_Dear Hopeless Hufflepuff,_

_ Happy Easter! I hope you're doing well._

_ Things have been rather hectic, at the manor. It seems like every day brings a new guest. Why, just yesterday we had your youngest godson and a few of his friends. We made up a lovely room for them, downstairs, but they didn't stay long._

_ If we had kept prisoners in our dungeon, then they certainly would have escaped when our son accidentally left the door open. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and, even if it did, we would have blamed it on one of my husband's colleagues. Incidentally, Mr. Crabbe suffered a terrible, work-related accident, last night. I sent his wife a basket._

_ On an unrelated note, our son has been muttering about "family" more than usual. This new obsession has revealed distant blood ties to several unexpected families, and he is altogether far too fascinated with the possible repercussions of said ties. He has informed me that this is entirely your fault. Should he find himself unable to hold his tongue upon returning to his schooling this Monday, I will personally hunt you down, no matter what protections you've erected around your home._

_ If you were smart, I would encourage you to stay home and out of trouble. I have long resigned myself, however, to the fact that you are a Hufflepuff._

_ I've enclosed a small assortment of gifts. Enjoy them._

_Good day,_

_The Sensible Sister_

Bellatrix smiled slightly at the note, tucking it into her pocket. She had absolutely no idea how Narcissa could simultaneously be so careful and so utterly obvious, but it was rather endearing. It also reassured her that the blonde wasn't worried about anyone reading her letters, or else she would have taken her codes far more seriously.

The news, in general, was good. Ron and his friends were safe, Draco had apparently discovered that he was related to quite nearly everyone, and Narcissa was still comfortable enough to send care packages to supposed enemies.

Inside the basket, assorted candies, a bottle of firewhiskey, and a large box jostled for her attention. The box held a broom-polishing kit, and Bellatrix gasped at what was tucked inside – her old wand. She snatched it up, immediately relaxing at the familiar hum of dragon heartstring, and read the attached note.

_"I snitched it from Andy's guestroom. You owe me for this."_

A quick swish of her wand packed the items away, and, caught up in a flurry of excitement, Bellatrix used magic for everything from clearing the table to straightening the curtains to tucking her hair behind her ears. Bellatrix nearly fainted the next day from magical exhaustion.

After a brief recovery, she began mock duels with the furniture, practicing every spell in her repertoire. Though her remaining leg and the flesh which scraped against her wooden one ached painfully afterwards, she soon moved and cast as quickly as ever. During the day, she fought phantom enemies. At night, she listened to the Wizarding Wireless, and exchanged notes with her scattered allies.

At Hogwarts, a group of students had set up base in a hidden classroom. At Malfoy Manor, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named grew increasingly obsessed with finding Harry Potter. At Muriel Weasley's mansion, Molly heard news from Ron. Their mission was almost complete, and the time to fight was fast approaching.

Bellatrix polished her walnut wand and took to sleeping beside the floo.

_It was probably for the best that Bellatrix never recovered her first wand. Though it was her most beloved possession since age eleven, she would have had to burn it. The Mudblood had cast spells with that wand, after all, and there are some things that just can't be washed off._

* * *

"The battle's starting at Hogwarts," Molly told her, her face gaunt and green in Grimmauld Place's fireplace.

"See you there," Bellatrix said.

She threw a pinch of floo powder onto the flames, and Molly's surprised face disappeared in a surge of fire. Had she waited a moment longer, Molly might have advised her to floo to the Hogsheade, where fighters entered the heart of the castle through secret passages. If she'd been a Gryffindor, she might have known of the network of shortcuts onto the school's grounds. Bellatrix was a Hufflepuff, however, and an impatient one, so she flooed to Gladrags and disillusioned herself, racing up the hill to Hogwarts.

She passed several groups of Death Eaters during her trip, sending a few whispered, slow-acting hexes their way, but never slowing.

The real fighting was ahead, after all, where her family, friends, and students were risking their lives. Though her fake leg often stuck in the mud and her real one soon ached, worry kept her movements quick. Bellatrix felt some small relief, when she finally caught sight of the battle.

Half their fighters were little more than children, Sixth and Seventh Year students faced off against enemies twice their age, yet they were _winning_. Bellatrix could see her lessons' influence as Death Eaters struggled to shout spells through sewn-shut mouths and to hold wands without fingers. Some were blinded by splashes of acid, and the rest might as well have been as a few clever students darted about under disillusionment charms. Always, always, they moved.

One cluster of students, however, held their ground. Three Hufflepuffs – Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, and Ernie MacMillan – formed a ring around the castle wall. Hannah stood in the center, holding a shield that stretched across herself and her friends, but covered only the upper half of their bodies.

Bellatrix raced to their position, tossing spells along the way. "Lesson one, Miss Abbott. Why aren't you dodging?"

Hannah jumped, her shield faltering, but relaxed again at the familiar voice. "We can't, Professor Black."

"Not enough practice?" she asked coolly, hand tightening around her wand.

"Can't move when you're protecting someone. Better to stand your ground and blast them all to hell," Ernie snapped off a Deafness Jinx before smugly adding, "lesson twenty-five."

"At least cover your feet, or do you need a _third_ one-legged professor before picking that up?" Bellatrix said. She added her own shield below Hannah's, then fired at a tall Death Eater with a slight hunchback.

"Sorry, Professor," Hannah murmured.

Bellatrix nodded, scanning the grounds for possible threats. "Now, who was injured? Mr. Finch-Fletchley? Ms. Jones?"

"Not a Hufflepuff, ma'am," Susan Bones said.

Bellatrix blinked. That was unexpected. Hufflepuffs didn't tend to make friends outside of their house, as she could attest.

"Who, then?" she asked.

"Draco Malfoy."

"What?! Why would you protect _him_?"

"That's not nice," Hannah said. "Isn't he your nephew?"

Bellatrix removed a Death Eater's fingers with a carefully-aimed curse, and said, "Of course. That's why _I_ would save him, but why did you?"

"He took a spell for Hannah," Susan said.

"She has very yellow hair," a familiar voice slurred.

Ernie snickered. "It was a really strong Confundus Charm."

From behind the Hufflepuffs, Draco's glazed eyes stared at Bellatrix's shoulder. "Hey, Aunt Beeella, did you know Hannah's mother was a Malfoy? My mother wasn't even a Malfoy. Wait…was she?"

"No, she wasn't. Not until after marriage," Hannah said softly.

The blond blinked. "Oh, okay."

"I like him better this way," Ernie said.

"Ernie," Susan growled, smacking his side with her free hand.

"What? We were all thinking it!" Ernie said.

"He saved Hannah."

"He's still a git."

Distracted by the two Hufflepuffs' argument, Bellatrix let her attention drift from the surrounding battlefield until Draco said. "Hey, it's Uncle R…ra…dolphin."

Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange approached the group, their spells thudding against Hannah's shield. Bellatrix cursed. "Bones, MacMillan, keep firing. Abbott, keep the bloody shield up. I'll draw Rodolphus off, but Rabastan's on you."

She darted away from the students, calling. "Oh, _Dolly_!"

Rodolphus took the bait, just as she hoped he would. "Shut up, Bellatrix."

"Make me," she purred, already dashing to the side as he began to fire. The Lestrange brothers favored brutish spells, like bludgeoning and blasting curses – the sort that did a lot of damage and were hell to dodge.

As Bellatrix darted to the side, throwing a Blood-Boiling Curse, she kept an eye on the other fight. Hannah was already exhausted, and her shield grew thin. Ernie stopped firing to raise another one, but that left only Susan to attack Rabastan. Bellatrix split her attention between their fight and her own, but Death Eaters weren't the only ones that could be distracted by conversation.

"Is this how you repay us?" Rodolphus asked, a mocking lilt to his voice. "Andromeda saves your life, and you attack her husband. Whatever happened to loyalty?"

"Andy did not" – Bellatrix ducked under an ugly, purplish spell – "save my life."

"She didn't kill you when she had the chance, and she definitely had the chance. Poor, weak Bellatrix Black bleeding to death on the floor…"

Bellatrix threw a fireball at his head, but it dissipated on his shield.

"Dammit, Susan, finish him off already!" Ernie shouted nearby.

"It's not that easy!" Susan snapped. A quick glance showed that, even with two students holding it, the shield had faded to nothingness at the edges. Rabastan shot a Sectumsempra at Ernie's face, which he only avoided by jumping aside.

Bellatrix growled softly. Ernie was her student, one of her Puffs, and he'd nearly had his throat gouged out. He wasn't the only one. Colin Creevey lay crumpled in the grass, a few feet away. The continuous, desperate screams of one girl could only have come from a bout of the Cruciatus Curse. A furious shout echoed from the castle that seemed oddly reminiscent of Molly's Howlers.

"How's the leg, by the way?" Rodolphus laughed.

He was still the same bully, the same idiot boy who'd cheated in Quidditch decades earlier. Well, Bellatrix could cheat, too, and she was better at it than he'd ever been. When he sent his next Bludgeoner, she shrieked and dropped to the ground.

He laughed, jogging forward to finish her off. "I never did get to thank you for leaving. If you hadn't, I would have been stuck marrying a pathetic, blood traitor Hufflepuff who –"

The Entrail-Expelling Curse hit his gut at point-blank range. Rodolphus had barely seen the flash of light before he was doubled over, vomiting his intestines onto the grass.

Bellatrix staggered to her feet, but one other battle, at least, had been won. Rabastan lay dead in the grass, a hole in his forehead. Susan had dropped her wand, and Bellatrix refrained from complimenting her aim, lest the redhead's sniffles explode into sobbing. Hannah pulled her into a hug, and Ernie, still holding their weak shield, picked up the girl's wand.

As Bellatrix turned to the rest of the battle, she heard Draco ask in mild concern, "Do you think he's alright?"

_For the first time in several months, the hands on the Weasleys' family clock shifted away from "mortal peril." Molly slipped Fred's snapped-off, golden hand into her pocket, and hurried to the kitchen._

* * *

Just once, Bellatrix Black would have liked to celebrate the end of a war. Were joyful whooping, silly dances, and drunken mistakes so much to ask for? Admittedly, she was far too reserved to involve herself in such things, but sensibility should have been swept away with the rush of victory.

Bellatrix didn't feel victorious. Fred was dead. George had lost an ear. Her oldest godson was permanently scarred. And those were just the people closest to her. There were others, she knew, laid out in the Great Hall: Remus Lupin, Colin Creevey – smaller, now, without his camera – and Professor Vector, to name a few.

They lay in a tidy row, surrounded by weeping loved ones and tokens of affection. But Bellatrix knew that there was another row of bodies hidden down a nearby hallway. They were laid out in an almost identical line, a dozen broken bodies in black robes. Most of them wore masks.

One did not.

Andromeda's brown hair sprawled upon the stone. Her skin stretched tight against high cheekbones, like a white dress that didn't quite fit the woman underneath. Her eyelashes could have been smudges of ash. Andromeda Lestrange had been many things, in her life, but it had been a long time since she had been beautiful.

Bellatrix started, when she saw the others that had gathered around the woman's body. For the first time, all her sisters were together.

"What are you two doing here?"

"I just happened to be walking by," Narcissa said, a slight tremble in her voice. "You know how easily I get lost."

"Are you alright?" Bellatrix asked.

"Fine. Talk to your friend; she needs it more than I ever will."

Bellatrix frowned, but crouched beside Molly. The redhead stared blankly at the body. "Molly?"

"I killed her," Molly said.

Bellatrix had been outside for most of the fighting and hadn't seen Andromeda's death. She kept her voice as gentle as possible. "What happened?"

"She tried to kill Ginny."

"That bitch," Bellatrix grumbled. "If it makes you feel any better, she deserved it."

The redhead closed her tired eyes. "I still…"

"Protected your family," Bellatrix said. "That's all any of us can do."

"She was your family, too," Molly said, gesturing towards the body.

"Not as much as you, the kids" – Bellatrix glanced at the silent blonde, tears slipping down her face – "and Cissy. Do you mind if I go talk to her, for a minute? I promise I'll be back."

Molly nodded. "Go ahead."

She slipped beside her younger sister. Narcissa asked, "Why aren't you with your friend?"

"You looked like you needed someone," Bellatrix said.

"I told you I was fine."

Bellatrix said, "You're _crying_."

"Didn't you know about my seasonal allergies? They're dreadful, right now. Absolutely-"

"Cissy."

The blonde sighed. "Alright, I...miss her."

"Me too," Bellatrix admitted.

She blinked. "Really? I didn't think, after all this time…"

"She was my sister. I know she was awful to me, awful to everyone, really. She did such terrible things. She killed Sirius, Wakefield, dozens more, and tried to kill me. Still, she didn't try as hard as she might have, and Andy wasn't always so awful. She wasn't any worse than either of us. We used to be so _similar_. She took my place, becoming heir, marrying Lestrange…I could have been just like her."

Molly stood up, walking over to pull the brunette into a hug. "You aren't like her, Bella. You're too kind, too good, too…"

"Hufflepuff?" Bellatrix finished dryly.

The redhead nodded and smiled against the taller woman's shoulder. "Yes, far too Hufflepuff."

Narcissa chuckled, hiding her reddened eyes with a quick glamour. "She's right, you know. The Hat would have been mad to sort you anywhere else."

_Molly Weasley and Bellatrix Lestrange dueled in the same hall where the Sorting Hat had sealed their fate thirty-six years before. As the final spell flew, the mother snarled, the murderer laughed, and neither felt the sting of missed chances._

* * *

**A/N: I like to think that Bellatrix would be an…interesting influence on her nephew.  
**

**Thank you to all my reviewers, particularly those who did so multiple times: Redejeka, krikanolo, Hpdwlotr24, and Debate4life. Also, thanks to cyberswordsmen for giving me advice on these last few chapters. I hope you folks enjoyed this ride through my bizarre, little what-if. Thanks for reading, following, favoriting, and - as always - reviewing! **


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